Angel
by Xiao Bi
Summary: "You'll be declared a traitor, just like him. He's a lost cause. You don't know what the promise of power does to people like him. I know Orochimaru and how he works. Your boy is as good as gone." [ Anime Canon ] [ Rated M for adult language and themes. ]
1. Poison

Chapter 1: _Poison_

Out in the wilderness, there are no city lights to dispel the darkness. Only flickering torchlight and twinkling starlight dare challenge the absolute reign of night. The fires throw eerie shapes over partially concealed walls, smooth and steep, carved straight from and into the solid rock of the cliff. Two guards stand on watch, but neither expects trouble so far from civilization.

"Why are we here?" one asks.

"To get paid," is the grunted response. The other takes a long drag of his cigarette, the orange tip flaring bright on inhalation.

"Nothing's happened tonight. Nothing happened yesterday. And I'd wager my crap pay that nothing will happen tomorrow," the first sighs, "I could be doing any number of things right now, all of which I'd enjoy more. So, really, why are we here?"

The second does not respond for a long moment and the first looks over. He sees the butt of the cigarette on the ground, extinguished in a pool of his fellow guard's blood. Panic rises into his throat, but the knife's cold edge is faster and his words are lost in a soft gurgle. He's held upright, crimson bubbles bursting on his lips that draw no breath, until his desperate struggling ceases. His lifeless body is lowered to the ground, and three silhouettes detach from the pervading blackness to slip into the unmanned entrance.

"Three more," a ghost murmurs. His is a cold voice.

"Please leave it to me," a wraith says, shifting forward.

"Not so loud," a specter hisses, "We need to take one alive. I'll go."

The third apparition melts away, becoming a shade amongst shades, and steals down the corridor, towards the dim glow of candles. Three thorns of black metal appear in the specter's hand, winking with toxic dewdrops. They whisper through the air, stinging unerringly from fifty feet away, and the potent venom renders their victims unconscious within moments.

"That one," the specter designates. Only the wind betrays the wraith's passage as the indicated man is lifted out of his chair and bound securely. In a billow of white, the ghost sweeps over the remaining two. A single touch suffices to quell the beating of their hearts.

"We're gone," the ghost commands, and in a flash of light and smoke, they are.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Tenten drops catlike into the clearing, weapons at the ready. Her eyes are bright with reflected celestial bodies, taking in her surroundings in the brief yet thorough manner of a Konoha ninja. Satisfied that she is alone with the forest, she straightens and beckons to the emptiness behind her. The flying stars vanish in silent puffs of smoke, leaving cloudy streamers as she waves them away.

A muffled thump heralds the arrival of her comrade, Rock Lee. Though he has borne the weight of their prisoner for at least a mile, his breathing is slow and even. The discomfort on his countenance is only a result of the cloak and dagger operation the team has just executed, which does not sit well in his stomach.

Tenten busies herself with double-checking their captive's bindings. She knows that the venom she dosed him with will more than likely keep him under until they reach home, but there is no reason to take chances. Out here, there are no hospitals; a single mistake is enough to end everything. Her auburn eyes find the frowning visage of her companion.

"You did well, Lee," she encourages quietly, "It's for the good of the village."

Lee's sparkling teeth cut through the umbral veil of night as he flashes her a bright smile. She can still see the uneasiness in the open innocence of his expression, but it has largely been displaced by warmth in light of her reassurance.

"Ah, thank yo–"

"Keep it down."

The ivory ghost glides into view, appearing silently in the spaces between shadows. His pale eyes level reprimands at his two teammates. Though the three have been working together for half a decade, his natural abilities far exceeds theirs and he quickly rose in the ranks to be appointed their leader. A genius, the rumors call him. He is Neji Hyuuga, the pride of Konoha's most powerful clan.

"We have company," he states briefly. As quickly as he appeared, he is gone again, swallowed up by the greedy jaws of the dark.

Lee intercepts their first pursuer as he bursts through the foliage with a whirlwind kick. It's dodged, but he sweeps low, pressing the offense relentlessly. Under the baleful glare of the moon, he is a hurricane dance of green and orange, of bashing strikes and smashing blows. Needles fly at him, buzzing like angry hornets on the defense, but Tenten's hand flashes like heat lightning, picking each off with a thorn of her own. She doesn't need to confirm her parries; she never misses.

Paired fists to the torso devastate the attacker and he slams bodily into an unyielding tree trunk, vomiting blood from ruptured lungs. He does not have long to live. Tenten is more concerned about his support, though, who remains skulking in the concealing brush.

If she had Neji's eyes, she would have seen the arm that grabs her in an unrelenting choke hold from behind. Without their insight, she can only struggle futilely, trying to call out through the hand that covers her mouth. There is an alien scent in that palm, but breath is scarce enough as is and she breathes deep. The stars begin to fade – or is it her vision? – and she wonders if her time has come.

All at once, the crushing pressure eases. Her body falls into Lee's waiting arms as her consciousness falls into an endless chasm.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Warmth.

Tenten fights to open unresponsive eyelids, managing only a sliver of daylight. Memories of the night prior elude her grasping mind like dandelion seeds, floating tantalizingly just out of reach. She is vaguely aware that she is moving quickly, being carried over the course of leaps and bounds. The morning sun competes with the rushing wind, heating and cooling her skin.

"You won't be able to move," someone's flat voice informs her. She recognizes it as Neji's.

"You were poisoned," Lee supplies, their prisoner slung over his shoulder once more, "Neji got to your attacker before it could do serious damage, but you still need to rest."

She tries to piece together a coherent response, but oblivion overtakes her senses once more.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

By midday, Tenten is back on her feet. She is two parts tenacity and ten parts temerity, and forces her rubbery limbs to carry her weight. Her pride is spared when Neji does not slow for her condition, but her body suffers as a result; when they reach the familiar gates of Konoha, she is close to collapse. She bites her lip until it bleeds, using the pain to focus her exigent will. In the heavy copper, she imagines she can taste the poison. It tastes of weakness and the flavor is vile indeed.

She tries not to retch during the debriefing when the Lady Hokage congratulates her team on a job well done. Failure is a bitter pill to swallow, and she resolves to double her training today. Their captive is to be taken in for interrogation, she hears, but the words are far away. Already, she is cutting through the haze, headed toward the field her team uses to hone their skills.

Lee catches up to her during her tenth score of pushups. By now, her cream shirt is soaked through with perspiration, and she has left a moist imprint of her body on the dusty earth. She no longer practices her aim. It is not technique she needs, but strength.

"Tenten," Lee begins stiltedly, "You should be resting. You are still weak."

He has never been one for tact, but even he realizes his faux pas when she glares up at him. Wordlessly, she returns to forcing her weight up, then lowering it down again, her arms shaking from exertion. He is as famous for persistence as she is, though, and tries again.

"The poison," he amends, "You are still weak from the poison. If you continue to force yoursel–"

"Fight me."

She doesn't need another reminder of her error. Tenten draws herself up and raises her fists. Lee takes a step back.

"I appreciate your youthful enthusiasm, Tenten, bu–"

"_I said fight me!_"

She swings at him, but he dodges easily. Amongst their peers, his mastery of hand-to-hand combat is second only to Neji's. Her next punch misses his face by a hair, but it may as well have been a mile. He breezes by her in the intermittent time, turning to evade her followup kick.

"You should get some rest, Tenten," he recommends softly before disappearing. She is left alone in the training ground, save for her regret and the fragility in her veins. Steeling herself, she drops to the ground once more.

Five hundred. She will do five hundred.

Or a thousand.

Whatever it takes to become stronger.

Feedback is welcome.


	2. Persistence

Chapter 2: _Persistence_

Six hundred twenty-one. Six hundred twenty-two.

She ignores the twin moons watching her as she hangs upside-down from a branch, levering herself up until her elbows touch her knees, then letting gravity straighten her body once more.

Six hundred twenty-three. Six hundred twenty-four.

She knows he was probably informed of her newest bout of fanatical training by their teammate, and prepares to brush off his admonition. Instead of speaking, though, he merely seats himself by the foot of the tree, hiding those pale orbs away behind introspective curtains. Tenten disregards him anyway, straining her torso to pull herself up again.

Six hundred twenty-five. Six hundred twenty-six. Six hundred twenty-seven.

She drops down at a thousand, nearly falling to her knees as dizziness smashes a hard hand across her eyes. Neji makes no comment, though, and she is almost relieved. She takes a moment to stretch, trying to force herself into a more relaxed state. Despite the cramps and sores in her overworked muscles, she reaches one foot forward and settles her weight on her back leg, bringing her left hand up while the other presses towards the ground.

It is a similar position to the Gentle Fist's, employed by the Hyuuga clan, but it is anything but gentle. Its name is the Shape Will Fist, and it is based on the linear thrusts and explosive potency of spear fighting. Will she has in spades, but shape requires tireless toil to attain combat perfection. In slow motion, she steps forward, pushing her hand out in synchronicity with her shifting momentum to empower it with her full weight. She imprints the form into her mind and into her body by repeating the attack, accelerating an almost imperceptible amount each time.

Nine hundred ninety-seven. Nine hundred ninety-eight. Nine hundred ninety-nine.

"Why are you here?" she asks on her last iteration. Her throat is parched and her voice almost cracks. Neji opens his eyes and regards her coolly. She does not flinch and he does not answer.

"If you're going to be here anyway, you might as well make yourself useful and spar me," she snaps. She is aware that her misdirected anger seeds wanton impropriety into her tone, but the insurmountable strength implied within the silent frame of Neji infuriates her. He stands, assuming the stance of the Gentle Fist.

Even unfocused by irrational rage, her opening strike blazes with destructive power. He pushes it aside, equally unaffected by her words, her wrath and her force. She kicks low at his ankles to drive him from stable ground, but he pivots easily to evade, taking her wrist in one hand and pressing his palm against her spine. Instinctively, she braces for a counterattack, but it never comes.

Damn him.

Tenten tries to spin about, but he follows her turn with measured, even paces. She stops and throws herself backward instead, discarding finesse in favor of doing anything to dislodge him from his high throne. The back of her leg meets the point of his knee and her foundation crumples. As she falls, he turns her around, slamming her facedown in the cold grass.

Even without the lingering effects of the poison and her nigh-masochistic exhaustion, his weight and execution would be more than enough to render her inert. She writhes impotently under the singular pin of his hand, forbidding herself from helpless tears. Instead, she settles for cursing him out loud. He sighs.

"Go home, Tenten," he says, rising. She is up as soon as he is, swinging a wild hook at him. He guides it smoothly across her body, letting the energy whirl her about before ripping her to the ground. The air is blasted from her lungs.

"Go home, Tenten."

She is up again, lashing out blindly. He doesn't try to dodge this time, dedicating his efforts into watching her ire-darkened eyes.

The sound of her fist striking his cheek echoes off the woods. She is too stunned by the sickening feel of the solid feedback to throw another punch. This is the first time she's ever connected with him and only the second time she's even seen him hurt. She stares at her covered knuckles in disbelief, as though they are foreign entities suddenly grafted to her without her knowledge.

"Are you satisfied?" he asks quietly, not bothering to staunch the rivulet of blood that flows from the corner of his mouth. She must have cut the inside of his lip on his teeth. Tenten buries her twinge of regret under a mountain of irritation.

"Why are you here?" she reiterates. Again, she is answered only by his blank stare. She storms past him and, though the adrenaline of the moment has displaced the foggy clumsiness that afflicted her previously, she somehow feels even more wretched than before.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

One thousand one hundred eighty-six. One thousand one hundred eighty-seven.

Tenten tracks her progress in the privacy of her head. She is not discouraged by the events of last night, though the guilt burdens her as surely as Lee's ankle weights. He had lent them to her with a dubious look and only after profuse reassurance that she had fully recovered. Truth be told, she still feels the symptoms slowing her nerves, though the tingling vibration in her knuckles troubles her more. Thankfully, he is too busy running laps around Konoha to see any of that.

She resists the urge to glance at Neji. He is there, as he always is, quietly meditating in the shade, as he has been since before the sun rose. She knows he can see her training. Eyelids, after all, are nothing before his powerful bloodline limit. Gritting her teeth, she works harder, scattering beads of sweat with each progressively sharper and more aggressive repetition.

He is watching her. She knows it. On a whim, she sends a throwing star humming at him. He has enough respect for her ability to cant his head to the side to avoid it. It slams into the tree behind him, peppering his dark hair with bits of bark.

"What am I doing wrong?" she asks, frustration lacing her speech, as he returns the weapon to her. The white scrutiny is directed at her again. Just as she is about to give up on his help, he exhales slowly and adopts her fighting pose.

"Tuck your elbows in and shoot from the heart," he says, demonstrating a swift straight. His double meaning is not lost on her. She mimics his motion once. Twice. Three times.

Five hundred sixty-nine. Five hundred seventy. Five hundred seventy-one.

"Hardness comes from softness," Neji says. She sees now that he is relaxed before and after the instantaneous action of the push. Again, she acts as a faithful mirror to him, echoing his technique like an infinite cascade. Noon comes and goes, unacknowledged by food or rest.

Eight hundred ninety-eight. Eight hundred ninety-nine.

"You need to eat," he says, breaking her rhythmic concentration. The sun is on a downward decline, casting a graduated orange glow through the sky. She realizes that she hasn't eaten since before dawn, and that she is starving.

"Spar me first," she challenges. He sighs again and, in the low light, she sees that his face is still discolored from when she struck him. With infinite patience, he sinks into the Gentle Fist and she tries her best to calm herself, both mentally and emotionally.

He doesn't dodge quite as easily this time and the edge of her hand skims across his shirt. She finds herself moving more fluidly in this state, even managing to duck under the sweep of his forearm. The low to high arc of his heel catches her mid-step, though, and staggers her backward. Tenten retaliates with a kick of her own, but without proper balance, it goes too high and her supporting leg promptly is torn out from under her by the stiff blade of Neji's arm. She slams into the earth and rolls back to her feet.

Tenten backpedals to avoid the sleeve that whips through the air before her face. Too late, she realizes it was just a visual blind for the real attack and tenses to receive the punishment for her failure. But in place of the crushing rebuke to her stomach she expects, she feels just a light tap.

"A supple reed breaks less easily," Neji advises. There is no arrogance in his visage, no triumph. She has always had a hard time reading him, though. He turns and starts back towards Konoha.

"Come."

Eating will make her stronger as well, she compromises somewhat reluctantly with herself. She knows she is making progress. The thought of it brings a small smile to her face. Tenten swears internally to do another thousand after dinner, and then she can try sparring Neji once more. Idly, she wonders where her anger has gone, but the serenity in her mind has proven much more constructive.

Another thousand after dinner, she promises the waxing sun, then hurries to catch Neji's retreating silhouette.

Feedback is welcome.


	3. Purpose

Chapter 3: _Purpose_

"Take those off."

Tenten blinks and her hand strays protectively over her borrowed ankle weights. While they are one of the lighter versions Lee used to wear, they are still enough of a hindrance for Neji to have noticed after just a few moments of sparring. She is certain that they are helping her become stronger, faster, though, and she tells him as much. He snorts. It is the sound he uses for affirmation, negation, self-confidence and derision. She decides that this one belongs to the latter category.

"Strength? What is strength?"

"The ability to hit harder," she answers, confused at his basic question, "Or to move faster. To be able to defeat more powerful opponents."

He snorts again. The first variation, this time.

"And you believe weighing yourself down will make you stronger?"

Tenten is at a momentary loss for words. It worked for Lee, didn't it? Unconsciously, vexation and defensiveness make their way into her demeanor. Neji sees it in her eyes. Of course he does; his are too sharp and hers are too open. He sighs. Always snorts and sighs with that one. She is so enraptured in her own internal monologue that she nearly jumps when he speaks suddenly.

"Lee is stronger, or so you say, when he is not wearing the weights. Strength is a synergy of your mind and body and when you forcibly change yourself, you become weaker overall. Do you understand?"

She thinks she does, and reluctantly removes her encumbering irons. Tenten recalls that she has never seen Neji use such training methods to reach his level. Perhaps it is the meditation, she decides, which reinforces his mind. She asks him to teach her to meditate, suddenly realizing that this is perhaps the longest they've ever conversed since she's known him.

"Meditation does not suit you. Where the Gentle Fist is based in circles and serenity, the Shape Will Fist is founded in lines and passion. Such power without a purpose is as useless as a weapon without a wielder."

Purpose.

She fidgets with the two buns of hair on her head, trying to process all the new information. Fighting had always been a physical art to her, embodied in the blood, muscle and bone of each warrior. To consolidate that with something as soft and abstract as thought would be completely contrary to common sense. And yet she has not forgotten the way the philosophy of hardness from softness had proven effective for her.

Tenten is aware of how long the silence has stretched and decides that she will consider Neji's advice later.

"Arriving!"

"Later" becomes much later with the self-trumpeted entrance of Anko Mitarashi. The older ninja beams a smile at the two of them and gives a small half-salute. Tenten knows that the only reason the easygoing woman would be out here in the training grounds, especially at this hour, would be to inform them of a new mission from the Lady Hokage.

"Evenin' kiddos! We have a mission briefing, so let's get a move on!"

Strange. Neji is ranked high enough to lead them on most missions. Even when more experience had been needed, it had never been in the form of Anko. Tenten clears such thoughts from her head. The mission briefing would make clear all such details, anyway.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

"We've interrogated the prisoner you brought in, and investigated the base as well. It seems as though it was an outpost for Orochimaru."

Orochimaru. The rogue ninja is still very much at large for the population of Konoha, having killed their previous leader no more than three years ago during his failed siege and countless others prior to leaving the village. Tenten's eyes flicks over to study Anko's expression surreptitiously. She is calm; the Lady Hokage must have informed her of the objectives ahead of time.

While her knowledge of the exact details is murky, Tenten knows that Anko was Orochimaru's student. He had betrayed her along with the rest of Konoha, and the enmity between them is rumored to still run deep. Any mission involving Orochimaru would certainly pique her interest and merit her involvement.

"As it turns out, he was a messenger for a larger base. We've extracted the location of that base from him, which may in turn provide more leads. Your mission will be to investigate and bring back anything we may be able to use. Anko will be team leader. You leave first thing tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

Tenten feels her blood run wild at the prospect of such a potentially dangerous and exciting mission. She is eager to redeem herself and apply her newfound skills. This time, she will not fail.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

As soon as the door closes, Neji turns to their new leader.

"You have a past with Orochimaru," he states coolly, "I need to know you won't endanger my team with reckless acts."

"Watch your mouth, kid," Anko bristles. Tenten imagines her jagged purple ponytail rising like the hackles of a cornered wild animal as she snaps, "I'm team leader here, not you."

Tenten is torn between intervention and fascination as she watches the titanic clash of Neji's glacial immovability and Anko's heated glare. Neji had never been one to question orders; his efficiency and loyalty to Konoha makes him one of the village's most valued. Still, he had always looked out for the safety of his team before anything else.

"A team leader is responsible for the team first and foremost," Neji says in clipped tones. The implication in his statement hangs in the air, unspoken, and becomes more powerful as a result. It is not lost on Anko, but neither does she respond immediately to his silent accusation.

Tenten sees Anko's fingers clench and her own goes for a throwing star instinctively. She thumbs the cold metal behind her back, ready to let fly at a moment's notice. The tension is thick enough to slice with the keen edge of her weapon. Her fears are assuaged, though, when Anko relaxes, her mahogany eyes brightening with good humor.

"Kids these days," she exhales with a small chuckle, "I won't let any of you get in harm's way. That's a promise. If at any time you think I've gone off the deep end, I give you full permission to take over."

Neji's expression is as unreadable as it always is. He seems satisfied enough, though, and nods his approval. Tenten trusts his judgment above almost anything else. There were precious few things that were capable of escaping his opalescent gaze, after all. Quietly, she excuses herself and leaps gracefully through an open window and into the balmy air of the summer night, eating up the distance between the Lady Hokage's office and her home with flying bounds. It has been a long day with another long day to come, and she is eager to find herself in the soothing softness of her own bed.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Purpose.

The thought, the idea, the concept, seems unwilling to vacate her mind and allow her the slumber she desires. What kind of purpose is she to look for? The reason she wants to become stronger? The reason she fights? The reason she exists? Or is it a combination of the three?

Tenten finds herself analyzing Neji's purposes, looking for clues as to what he meant. She had always assumed that he was strong simply because he was strong. But perhaps there is more to it. Perhaps he is strong because he fights for Konoha. Or did he fight for the pride of his clan? Her reflections linger over the cursed seal he bears, which enslaves him to an unconquerable fate. Do the forced edicts of the Main Family supplant his natural purpose and instill in him the unnatural willpower he possesses?

Then again, he had said that the principle of the Gentle Fist was serenity. Certainly, if there was any power to be derived from aloofness, his legendarily unflappable calm would milk every last drop of it. But despite what the rumors might say, Tenten knows he isn't as uncaring as he appears. He has saved her life more times than she cares to count, putting himself unhesitatingly and unyieldingly between her body and danger. He has done the same for Lee, as well. And didn't he go willingly on that ill-fated mission to retrieve the boy Orochimaru had drawn out of the village?

She turns her pillow over to enjoy its cold underside. If only Neji were not so cryptic when open and airtight when closed, she could learn so much more from him. Her path is not the same as his, though. His is the Gentle Fist and hers is the Shape Will Fist. She decides to forge her own path to strength, albeit with pointers here and there from him.

Tenten resolves to find her purpose.

Her conclusion and new goal brings her a good deal of comfort, and Tenten soon finds herself sound asleep.

Feedback is welcome.


	4. Interlude: putting up with you

Interlude: _putting up with you_

"Is this seat taken?" six-year-old Tenten asked politely. She had her lunchbox in her hands and a smile on her face.

Six-year-old Neji gave her the stink eye.

"Yes."

She sat down like she hadn't heard him and started eating, ignoring his darkening scowl. Even at a young age, he had mastered the subtle art of being unapproachable. To most, anyway.

"You know that's the first thing you've ever said to me," Tenten beamed around a mouthful of rice, "Even though we're in the same class and all."

Neji was determined not to concede any more ground to her. He resolved to ignore her forever.

Evidently, a six-year-old's version of forever lasted only as long as his patience, which was in turn approximately thirty seconds.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Tenten looked hurt and jabbed her chopsticks at him.

"I just wanted to be friends," she pouted. Neji snorted – another social interaction he'd been practicing – and turned his head away.

"Who would want to be friends with a dropout like you?" he muttered, sliding off of the bench. Or he would have, anyway, had his newly-declared "friend" not pinned his pants to the bench with the chopsticks she had been brandishing before. He pinwheeled his little arms, managing to retain his balance and a few shreds of his miniaturized dignity, but not his lunch, which spilled onto the autumn leaves carpeting the ground.

"Now look what you've done!" Neji raged.

"You did it yourself! Stupid-head! Nyah! Stupid fathead!"

Neji lashed out, knocking Tenten's food to the earth as well and putting an abrupt stop to her taunts. There. Now they were even. He was struggling to extricate himself from the chopsticks when he heard a soft sniffle.

"My mommy made that for me," Tenten whimpered, crying into the back of fisted hands, "All I wanted was to be friends, you big jerk."

Neji frowned at the holes in his clothing, then at her. She was right... She had only tried to be friendly, and he had caused most of the commotion. He sighed, as though two spilled lunchboxes were tantamount to the whole of world hunger, which, to him, they were.

"Let's go," he decided, taking her fingers gingerly to avoid the saline tear stains, "I'll buy you lunch."

"R-Really?" Tenten asked, and her expression brightened like the sun behind parting rainclouds, "Does this mean we're friends?"

Neji grunted noncommittally, but didn't let go of her hand. He decided he liked it there.

Feedback is welcome.


	5. Bones

Chapter 5: _Bones_

Nightfall the second day finds Tenten, Neji and Anko outside their mission objective. There is another pair of guards stationed outside the entryway: a downward staircase framed by granite blocks and illuminated at regular intervals by burning torches. To their credit, they seem more vigilant than their predecessors. No amount of preparedness, though, could have readied them for the sight of Anko charging out of the brush at them, trench coat billowing like a grim specter of death.

The first guard's hand is wrenched aside and four stiffened fingers are driven into his throat. His alarm cry dies before it begins as his attentions are focused on the more important task of trying to breathe. A shattering back kick hits home on the second's jaw, gagging him with his own blood and teeth before a horizontal knife swipe puts him out of his misery.

Anko licks the coppery lifeblood off of her fingers and, from the slight shift of her cheeks, Tenten can tell that she is grinning. She suppresses a shiver and moves into the descending tunnel.

Out of the darkness, another guard lunges at her and she reacts with what has become indelibly etched into her muscle memory: the Shape Will straight. It cannons the man's head back, snapping his neck instantly with the whiplash force and he comes to a skidding stop on his knees, already dead.

"I can see better here. I'll lead," Neji says, moving in front of her. As he breezes past, she glimpses the hint of the faintest smile on his visage. His approval fills her with a fierce sort of pride, and she resists the urge to mime her attack again. She almost misses his movement when he whirls past another ambushing guard, dealing a sharp blow to the back of his head as he passes. Stricken, he falls, but Neji is already applying his momentum to the next man with a short palm strike to the solar plexus. He, too, expires, albeit with a disbelieving choke.

Neji lets his body thud noisily to the ground. There is no purpose, after all, in stealth anymore. The complex has been roused by the sounds of combat, which carry far too far in the echoing hallways. A woman materializes before them, light glinting off of her glasses, blocking their access further into the base. Her hair is strangely styled: one side is smooth and clean where the other is ragged and unkempt. Tenten wonders if any of Orochimaru's subordinates are normal. Just behind her, she spies a two-way fork.

"She doesn't look like much of a fighter. Take care of this, Hyuuga," Anko orders briefly, "I'll take the left passage. Tenten, you take the right. Keep an eye out for hidden exits. We don't want anyone escaping."

"A Hyuuga, huh?" Tenten hears the woman say as she hurries down her corridor. She isn't concerned. Neji is strong, and she can tell even from the woman's posture that she is no combatant. Further whispers of their conversation are buried as a group of guards rush at her. From their sloppy dress, Tenten concludes that they have only just woken up. She must be heading towards the residential quarters.

Tenten knows the close walls will hinder her larger weapons, so she opts for a pair of Emei daggers. She slips the rings on each hand, giving the attached, double-bladed rods of metal a test twirl as she runs. They are well-maintained and spin on their oiled joints without protest. The first in line lashes out clumsily at her and she ducks under, shredding his armpit and nullifying his offensive capacity. For good measure, she punctures his kidney as he drops.

The next learns from his fallen companion and drops into a defensive stance, but Tenten is inexorable. She brings both piercers across in parallel diagonal slashes, putting the whole of her body into the motion. To his credit, he blocks one; the other tears a spurting gash in the side of his neck. Tenten slips under the arc of arterial spray, twirling her leftmost weapon in a hypnotic dance. The third guard looks for just a moment and she takes his eye with a brief upward cut from her right hand. Blinded by pain, he does not see the left dive back in to drive through his orbital cavity and into his brain.

The point lodges into the interior of his skull and she abandons both dagger and corpse. She crouches low, ripping through the last guard's groin with a sweeping slash to render him immobile, then lays his torso open with her return strike. The limestone floor hisses as it reacts to his stomach acid, but she is already gone.

Twenty feet later, the narrow path flares into a larger room. There are bunks lined up against the wall, each with a chest at the foot. She is surprised by how spartan the quarters are, with no privacy or personality, but she supposes that is to be expected of one such as Orochimaru. The reflected light off of a pair of glasses catches her attention, and a masked man steps forth into view.

"Well done," he congratulates with a sneer visible even with his face covered, "You've improved since the Forest of Death."

"Misumi Tsurugi," Tenten recalls. What was his ability again? To stretch and bend his body freely, right? A terse grin manifests itself on Tenten's face as she levels her lone Emei dagger at him.

"That little toy won't work on me," he taunts. His arms begin to dislocate and distend and his fingertips brush the ground. He would seem almost comically simian were it not for the gravity of the situation. Tenten keeps a wary distance, knowing that to be caught in his embrace would be fatal. She begins to circle him, looking for a vulnerability.

Without warning, his hand shoots out. Tenten reacts, bringing her dagger to bear on the incoming fist. It swerves impossibly, coiling around the blunt shaft in an unshakeable loop. She has the presence of mind to disengage her finger from the securing ring to avoid losing it as he yanks hard on the weapon. It clatters off somewhere in the shadows.

"Got any more tricks, little girl?"

He is arrogant. Good. It will give her time to think. He had previously been defeated in the crushing grip of a puppet, which had broken all of his bones. His bones must still be solid, then. She steps forward and throws a shattering left at his face. His head lolls back from the punch at an unnatural angle, but the feedback from the hit is completely absent. Tenten jumps back just in time to avoid his grasping coils.

"Too bad," Misumi snickers, righting himself again, "My body will absorb anything you throw at me."

He begins to advance, half walking and half slithering with his grotesquely malleable body. Tenten shuffles backward, her mind simultaneously forming and rejecting ideas and plans. She settles for the simplest solution she can think of: to throw something he can't absorb. Tenten puts one foot forward lightly and raises her left hand before her.

They surge forward in the same moment, like two jousting knights. Tenten is the faster and her right cross connects solidly. His neck sways to mitigate the impact, but she is ready. Tapping into the explosive rush of the spear, she drives her fist all the way through, bearing his head in a downward arc and smashing his skull between her knuckles and the solid earth hard enough to jar her teeth. Hot blood bursts from his ears and he gives a rattling sigh as his body goes limp; this time, for good.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Neji looks up as Tenten reenters the fork. His robes are as immaculate as when she last saw him, in rather stark contrast to her own white shirt, which has become positively ghastly with bloodstains from her messy encounters with the guards, particularly her long sleeves.

"The woman?" she questions curiously.

"She got away," he answers briefly. His eyes seem far off for a moment and Tenten frowns. Strange. She has never known someone to successfully escape from Neji, especially not at close range. He is easily one of the fastest ninjas in the village, and his touch should have instantly crippled the woman, who didn't appear to be very skilled in the first place. Before she can ask further questions or consider what it all meant, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

"Ah, she got away? That's too bad," Anko drawls, "Fortunately, I found something interesting."

She comes to light, and Tenten sees that her attire far outstrips her own in gruesome appeal. Her coat is more red than tan now, and she has the pale mass of a man's body slung casually over her shoulder. Anko wears a wild, triumphant smirk – clearly, there had been more than enough guards down her corridor to slake her bloodlust.

"Let's get a move on, kiddies."

Feedback is welcome.


	6. Bodies

Chapter 6: _Bodies_

Tenten discovers that Anko has a penchant for theatrics when their leader barges into the Lady Hokage's office, banging the doorknob against the wall with enough force to leave a sizable dent and belting out a cheerful "Arriving!" Without further prelude, she proceeds to drop the discovery she has carried all the way back onto the Lady Hokage's desk with all the pomp and pride of an overgrown cat presenting its master with a dead bird. Papers and ink go flying, and it seems that a good deal of the Lady Hokage's good humor goes with them.

This marks the first time Tenten sees the corpse up close. Anko had been especially secretive about her find, storing it away in a prepared scroll almost immediately after offering them a tantalizing glimpse of it. She is momentarily startled by how similar it looks to Neji; the masculine, refined facial features, the lean, pale musculature and the long, silken hair are all evocative of her teammate's appearance. But Neji's locks are the color of dark coffee, not silver-white, and he bears only the green cursed seal on his forehead, not the twin red dots and eye markings this body has.

"This is remarkably well-preserved," the Lady Hokage grumps after her window-rattling shouts have subsided, "They must have wanted to keep his unique body structure intact for study."

"Unique?" Anko echoes, the remnants of her exuberant grin falling away. Tenten notices not for the first time that Neji has spoken very little since his encounter with the strange woman. She supposes that failure is a relatively new concept to him, and makes a note to speak to him about it later. The Lady Hokage's grunt of affirmation snaps her attention back to reality.

"Good work, you three. Anko, I'd like to speak with you about the exact circumstances in which you found him. If I'm not mistaken, he possessed a very rare bloodline limit. You two are dismissed."

The elation brought by the Lady Hokage's commendation is quickly replaced by panic as Neji turns on his heel and leaves brusquely. Eager to catch up to him, Tenten bows hastily and follows, only to find an empty hallway. She hears the word "Kimimaro" drift through the open doorway, but she is too busy rushing off to find her teammate to care about the unknown name.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Tenten tries her luck with the sweeping feint to conceal her thrusting right palm, but Lee has evidently seen the combination before from their mutual teammate and absorbs the hit on a cross-armed block. She notes with some satisfaction that it manages to drive him back a pace, but is forced into a diving roll by his flying axe kick. His hard-earned physical strength and the additional force provided by his leg weights blast a miniature crater into the earth from even the relatively simple move.

"You didn't find him?" he asks in the resultant interlude. Tenten shakes her head ruefully. She had been hoping that perhaps Neji had sought out Lee for a spar to get his mind off of things, but had arrived to their training grounds to find Lee practicing his forms alone.

"Perhaps he is meditating in the Hyuuga estate," Lee suggests, dodging Tenten's punch as almost an afterthought. She scowls and presses the attack, only to have each strike evaded. Closer, though. She is getting closer with each successive attempt. Tenten realizes that she has focused too much on the offense when Lee launches a counterattack, catching her in the stomach and stealing her breath for a few desperate seconds. She stumbles back, gasping and he waits patiently for her to recover.

"Neji will be okay," Lee says with a staunch nod. His chin stiffens nto a look of determination Tenten has seen many times before and finishes, "My eternal rival is too strong to lose his youthful vigor."

A pause.

"You are getting stronger, too."

A small smile flits over Tenten's lips and she straightens, taking in a deep breath to steady her respiration. Lee is many things, but he is not one for baseless flattery. If anything, he is far too honest for his own good.

"Again," she barks out, reinvigorated, and the mock battle begins anew.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

"Hey, Lee. Does the name 'Kimimaro' mean anything to you?" Tenten asks. Hours later, she has managed to land a few glancing blows on her sparring partner, but she still sports the lion's share of the bruises. Still, to be able to hold her own, unarmed, against one of Konoha's most skilled combatants is a more than satisfactory end to what she considers a good day, and she wears a proud smile that more than outshines her relatively minor contusions.

Lee blinks and looks up from his meticulous task of winding the bandages around his hands and arms. Her sudden inquiry seems to have caught him off-guard and he looks nostalgic for a moment, as though recalling something that happened in the distant past.

"I fought someone named Kimimaro Kaguya several years ago," he says, bemused at the mention of his former adversary's name, "He was very strong, and possessed a bloodline limit that allowed him to shape and grow his bones at will. Why do you ask?"

"I think we found his body," Tenten answers, crossing her arms pensively, "The Lady Hokage thinks it was preserved for further study. Do you think maybe that has something to do with Neji's strange mood?"

"Neji never fought against Kimimaro. I do not think they have met at all," Lee frowns. His expression is remorseful as he considers the information Tenten presented, "He was an honorable fighter, though, and he deserves a better end than that."

Tenten mirrors the expression, though her consternation is more with the negation of her burgeoning hypothesis. What else could have upset the normally steadfast Neji so much as to force him to so openly display his emotions? It certainly was atypical of him to miss an entire day of training, even if they had just completed a mission. Sparring together after returning home had become a sort of ritual for the three teammates, one that, to Tenten's knowledge, they had never departed from.

Speculation is pointless, she reprimands herself. She stretches, loosening her limbs and standing again.

"It's getting late," she says, dusting off her pants, "How about one more round before we call it quits?"

She loses again, but it takes Lee several minutes to achieve that outcome. Without a doubt, Tenten is improving at a prodigious rate.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Ino Yamanaka jolts awake to the presence of an intruder, leaping up instantly and grabbing the dagger she keeps under her pillow, ready to defend herself from all manners of assassins and ambushers. The silhouetted figure makes no move to attack, though, or even move at all, and she swipes a hand across bleary eyelids several times to squint more closely at him.

"Hyuuga?"

On the exceedingly short list of people Ino expects to see in her room in the middle of the night, Neji is certainly not an entry. Confusion tempers the adrenaline pumping through her veins and she sets her weapon down, stifling a groggy yawn and trying to tame her hair into some semblance of propriety. She manages a messy ponytail, though a good portion of her golden tresses fall in front of her face in a messy veil.

"Yamanaka," he acknowledges curtly. He looks over her in a cursory, assessing way, and Ino would have felt violated in her lack of clothing were it not for his icy succinctness. His luminescent eyes seem strangely opaque, given their usual translucency. Ino's internal musings are broken as he states shortly, "Get dressed. I require your assistance."

"Is it urgent?" she sighs, eyeing her disturbed covers longingly. The sudden rise and fall in her heart rate from his unexpected entry into her living space has left her exhausted and she would like nothing more than to go back to her slumber. She barely staves off another yawn, feeling small tears spring to her eyes at the effort and groans out, "I'd love to help you, really, but it's late. Can't we do this in the morn–"

He is on her like lightning, muffling her cry of surprise with a hand and pinning her helplessly to the bed. His free hand holds the dagger she discarded, and the frosty blade causes the vulnerable skin of her throat to shiver involuntarily. Her pulse is up again, and she can feel it jumping against that dangerously sharp edge.

"Get dressed," he reiterates, his tone unyieldingly exigent this time, "I require your assistance. If you do not comply or if you try to alert anyone, I will kill you and find someone else. Is that clear?"

Feedback is welcome.


	7. Betrayal

Chapter 7: _Betrayal_

"I hate this job," Kotetsu Hagane grumbles into the folds of his magazine. He peruses it for a while but nothing seems to catch his immediate interest and he flips to the next page, almost tearing the paper with his impatient gesture. This cycle repeats several more times before he gives up and sets it down, sighing, "Nothing interesting ever happens."

Izumo Kamizuki looks at his partner reproachfully and shakes his head. It's a conversation he's long become accustomed to and has long since ceased his attempts to cajole his fellow sentry into approaching his duty with more enthusiasm. For the most part, he is right: incidents at the Konoha gates are few and far between. Still, it is a duty that must be done for the good of–

"Hey, who is that?"

A snorting inhalation precedes a decidedly unintelligent mumble from Kotetsu, who had almost drifted off in the meantime. He leans forward to peer past Izumo's shoulder at the figure he indicates. The outline is unfamiliar, and yet he is inside the village walls. Strangely, he seems to be heading outward at a brisk but walking pace. A spy would have been far more discreet and swift in his departure.

"Eh, who knows. Probably just a random villager's relative or something," Kotetsu shrugs, settling back and resting his head on his arms again. Izumo frowns and clears the wooden desk with one bound, running out to place himself between the unidentified wanderer and the exit.

"Identify yourself," he calls out. Kotetsu sighs again at his partner's incredible alacrity for minutiae. The exhalation catches in his throat, though, as the stranger bursts into a run and slams a fist into Izumo's stomach, following with a savage elbow to the head as he doubles over. He drops like a stone, completely unprepared for the vicious assault.

Kotetsu swears and jumps over the table as well, drawing one of the large blades he keeps stashed nearby. Their attacker is already in front of him, though, slicing through the steel of his weapon as though it were no more than water with a fiery arc of white moonlight. Kotetsu backpedals, trying to put some ground between himself and his opponent to give himself time to regroup, but the man is relentless. The arc – a sword, Kotetsu discovers with his flesh – razors across his thigh and drops him to one knee, then reverses to ram the blunt hilt against his temple.

The world explodes into a dazzling show of lights, then goes spinning away into darkness.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Tenten frowns at the glowing sliver of the rising sun. Neji is late again, by at least an hour. That makes two days in a row, which is two days more than she has ever known him to be less than punctual. Maybe he had been called away on some sort of top secret mission? He is ranked higher than her and Lee, after all. She flicks her hand distractedly, sending a flying star straight into the dead center of a target which no longer holds any appeal for her. Perhaps it would be best to ask the Lady Hokage about the issue.

She glides over the rooftops in an easy manner, despite the kinks and sores she has accumulated from the brutal sparring sessions she forced her body through last night. At the literal crack of dawn, no one else is awake, and the streets are mostly deserted. With a small grin, she wonders if the oft-inebriated Lady Hokage herself is even awake. Tenten launches herself through an open window – it is summer, after all, and the heat inside would be unbearable without ventilation – and proceeds down the empty hallway. Her hand lifts as she goes to knock on the door, but something gives her pause and she hesitates.

"Are you sure it was him?" the Lady Hokage's gruff yet feminine voice barks out.

"Yes, I'm sure," another voice snaps back. It is higher pitched, more crisp. And the attitude... Ino? It's hard to say for sure through the wood. She continues, "He was close enough for me to feel him breathing on me. It was Neji Hyuuga, and I'll stake my life on that."

Neji Hyuuga? Close enough to Ino to feel him breathing on her? What the hell is going on?

"So then what happened?" a third voice drawls. Anko.

"He dragged me to where you found me at knife point and forced me to..." The sound trails off and Tenten fears she has been caught, but there is an odd strangled choking sound. A sob? "To transfer my mind into the corpse that was there."

Tenten frowns. Things were getting stranger and stranger.

"And then?" The Lady Hokage, again.

"And then he made me switch minds with him."

"So he's in Kimimaro's body, now." A pause. "Where is his body, then?"

"I don't know. He used some scroll that was nearby. Stowed it away. Took it with him, I guess. He knocked me out right after."

"This is bad," the Lady Hokage sighs, "Late last night, Kotetsu Hagane and Izumo Kamizuki were attacked on sentry duty by someone who matches Kimimaro's description. That person escaped the village. We don't know where he's going."

The door bangs open as Anko kicks it from the other side. She glares out into the corridor, but sees no one. Tenten is relieved that she relocated herself above the doorframe a few minutes ago. Anko slinks back inside after shaking her head.

"Thought someone was outside. He was acting strangely yesterday. Let the person I think was the base leader get away. I think she probably made some kind of offer to him. He's got the cursed seal, right? Maybe he got sick of having that thing and wants to be free of it."

The silence stretches on for a small eternity. Tenten can barely breathe as she waits for the next person to speak.

"This is all speculation," the Lady Hokage says, "Until we have more information, I don't want anyone else knowing of this incident. Act like everything's normal and we'll see what comes up. I'll dispatch Black Ops to track and retrieve him. He hasn't killed anyone yet, but we can't let him fall into Orochimaru's hands. He's too powerful for us to lose to the other side."

Tenten has heard enough. She leaves without a sound.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

She makes her move under the cover of nightfall, her mind a whirl of half-formed thoughts and abstract ideas.

Orochimaru wasn't in the base they found and the woman would not have disclosed his location without a guarantee. Was the body for payment? No, she already had that. Did she want Neji? What had she said to him? Why did he act alone? There is the ever-present dread in the pit of her stomach that Neji had truly turned traitor, but she clamps down on that. All speculation for now.

A fistful of throwing knives go into the wall in staggered procession, offering temporary footholds for her to scale its massive height. She is not concerned about anyone seeing them – she will be long gone by the time anyone notices. The only person with eyes good enough to see them at night, anyway, is the one she is pursuing. Tenten moves from one to the next in agile leaps, clearing the wall in no time. No one witnesses her climb. In her white attire, she is a ghost amid pale moonlight.

She drops swiftly down the opposite face, dragging a knife against the wooden bastion to slow her descent the last hundred feet. With feline grace, she lands, slipping through the brush like liquid steel. She needs to make her way to the base again. That's where she'll find the information she needs. The woman will be there, she knows it. She'll get the location of Neji's destination even if she has to beat it out of her.

"Show yourself."

Tenten freezes. Has she been spotted? She sinks back into the shadows instinctively, searching the forest furiously for the source of that voice. Even with the authority laden in it, she would recognize that drawl from anywhere.

"I knew there was someone outside that room. Come out and play."

Anko. Tenten grimaces, cursing softly under her breath. She hadn't expected to run into resistance this early. Still, she can't afford to be slowed now – Neji already has a day's lead in front of her – and she cannot allow her departure to be discovered this early. Her eyes catch a glimpse of movement twenty feet ahead of her, on the main road, and she reaches into a sleeve to draw out a length of fine razor wire, careful not to cut herself, and a heavy metal throwing spike, looped at one end as a handle.

Mentally apologizing to the older woman, she threads one into the other and lets fly with her grim needle.

Feedback is welcome.


	8. Interlude: between the stars

Interlude: _between the stars_

The stars elongated into whirling lines as Tenten spun on her back, her eyes fixed on the sky. Two pale moons slowly spiraled into view, the surprise in their pale luminescence rapidly shifting into a wan amusement.

"Help me up," she growled.

"Are you sure?" Neji smirked down at her, "You look like you're doing well."

"Why you..." Tenten snarled. She struggled valiantly to raise herself, but managed only to flail about a bit on the ice before falling unceremoniously onto her rump. It stung and small tears sprang involuntarily to her eyes, but she would sooner die than let the arrogant man above her know that.

"Remind me again of why you're doing this," said man intoned, interrupting her mental tirade

"We're going to Water Country and it's winter, Neji. I want to be able to ice skate," Tenten explained happily. Neji thought her expression positively radiant, even more so when framed by the black sheen of the frozen lake. He smiled in spite of himself, and by the sparkle in her eyes – was it amusement or was it the stars? – she caught his slip.

"I was under the impression that that was done on your feet, not your back," he covered hastily.

Tenten's good cheer gave way to a dark scowl.

"If you're not going to help, why don't you just go home, Neji Hyuuga?" she snapped, looking rather put out.

This time, Neji was unable to restrain his soft chuckle and he crouched on the slick surface, offering Tenten a hand. She took it gratefully and managed – after a great deal of pinwheeling arms and close calls – to lever herself to her feet with Neji's help. He hid a smile at the way her fingers trembled uncertainly in his as she was caught precariously between prideful independence and embarrassed dependence.

"Here," he instructed, resolving her dilemma, taking her free hand in his as well, "Set your feet apart at shoulder width and focus on me."

Tenten gulped apprehensively, but tore her regard away from her wobbling feet to focus on Neji's gaze. He offered her a reassuring smile, one she returned shakily, but wholeheartedly, as she dutifully followed his directives. Slowly, he guided her around him, watching her hesitance turn to delight as they skated.

The remainder of the night was spent on that lake. So enraptured were they by each other's eyes that they did not notice the reflected fairy lights beneath their feet from the celestial sprites above as they glided together between the stars.

Feedback is welcome.


	9. Directions

Chapter 9: _Directions_

The iron slams into a tree inches away from Anko's head and she rolls to the side, releasing a multitude of snakes from her sleeves as she does so. They impact hard, showering Tenten with chips of bark as they blast through wood and foliage. She is already on the move though, dragging the razor wire behind her as she weaves through the serpents.

"Tenten, eh? Thought you never missed?"

Tenten ignores the taunt. Had she wished it, her initial throw could have gone through Anko's head. She puts on an extra burst of speed as she crosses over the open road and is immediately assaulted by the older woman's reptilian familiars. Tenten pauses just long enough to tug sharply on her end of the cord and the toothed edge whips upwards to reduce several hissing heads into gushing fountains of blood. She dives the last few feet into the brush on the opposite side of the road, bracing her feet against the base of a tree trunk and kicking off in a new direction as several throwing needles pepper the area she used to occupy.

"You can't hide forever, kiddo," Anko crows, "You won't trap me with this without crossing a few more times, and you aren't that lucky. I'll get you one of these times."

Tenten grits her teeth and hopes that no one hears Anko's braying. They are a fair distance from the village, but she is loath to press her luck. She needs to end the encounter quickly, and finds herself regretting not planting her projectile into the vociferous woman's mouth. For the second time in as many days, she thanks the arrogant nature of her target; Anko has not seen it necessary to leave the loose rectangle formed by Tenten's thread. With a deft twist of her hand, Tenten severs the wire on her end and ties it to another looped spike.

She takes a steadying breath, braces herself, and yanks as hard as she can on her makeshift handle. There is a high-pitched shriek of metal on wood as her ductile saw slices through multiple tree trunks and she hears Anko curse as the rectangle suddenly becomes a triangle. The older woman tries to jump clear of the incoming strand, but Tenten runs the ensemble back and another corner falls, the tension translating into a snapping jerk that ensnares her target in a tight loop. Tenten keeps pulling steadily until she feels a resistance, whereupon she stakes her second spike into a nearby tree and doubles back.

"I know you're wearing chainmail," Tenten informs the woman currently restrained against the tree behind her, "But you pull hard enough on that or make any sudden movements, and it'll cut you clean in half."

"You're mental," Anko seethes, her eyes glaring heated daggers at Tenten, "You'll be declared a traitor, just like him. He's a lost cause. You don't know what the promise of power does to people like him. I know Orochimaru and how he works. Your boy is as good as gone."

"I'll be the judge of that," Tenten says flatly, producing a length of conventional rope.

"He'll kill you if you try to stop him."

Tenten falters. It is immature of her, but she takes great satisfaction in gagging Anko.

"Not if I kill him first."

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Not if I kill him first.

Her own words echo in her ears as she travels, haunting her troubled dreams in the short and infrequent naps she takes. She knows her bindings wouldn't hold Anko forever; eventually, she will be able to work one of the anchors free and escape. Tenten has to keep moving, both to evade pursuit from Konoha and to catch up to Neji.

Neji. Could she really kill him? They had been together so long, through thick and thin. She had put her life in his hands on more than one occasion and her existence itself had become a testament to her well-placed trust in him. He had never let her down before.

But she also knows firsthand how much he hates the cursed seal he wears and the way it turns him into a caged bird. What if he really did just get tired of being enslaved to the main branch of Hyuuga?

Speculation, speculation. The time for thinking is over, though. Up ahead, in the crimson stained sky, she can see the familiar descending tunnel. What was the saying about red sky at night? Something fortuitous, she hopes. Already, her luck is looking up. The base is unguarded – likely still recovering from their previous mission.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

"Glad you stuck around."

The red-haired woman whirls around in time to meet Tenten's fist. Her glasses shatter and tinkle to the ground like fairy bells and she joins the shards shortly after, bleeding from where Tenten's knuckles have driven the tiny crystal blades into her face. She grabs a knife and springs at Tenten, only to have her attempt slapped away contemptuously and receives another hook, this time to the ribs. Tenten shoves her bodily, smashing her into a desk and upending it. Books and paperwork carpet the stone floor, rattling in angry protest.

"Didn't think you were much of a fighter," Tenten growls. She reaches down and takes a hold of the woman's collar, lifting her slight frame up by one hand.

"If you're after the Hyuuga, give up," the woman sneers, "He's already left, a day before you, and I'll never betray Lord Orochimaru."

Tenten sighs.

"I actually don't have time for this," she grunts. With her free hand, she rights the overturned table and sets it down with a loud bang. Before the woman even registers the movement, Tenten grabs her right hand and pins it to the table with a pair of needles.

"This is what's going to happen," Tenten explains calmly through the woman's agonized shriek. She slaps her cheek lightly to regain her attention, noting with some disgust that the woman has begun to cry. This woman, hardly even qualified to call herself a ninja, is the reason Neji left Konoha? Quashing her anger, Tenten cajoles warmly, "Hey, hey you. Stay with me. I'm only going to say this once, all right?"

She produces a pair of butterfly swords and jams the tips into the table, noting with a sadistic sort of pleasure the way the woman's eyes go wide at the quivering blades. Good. Let her be afraid. It will make the process less painful on both of their accounts. Relatively speaking, anyway.

"These are called butterfly swords, you see? They're single-edged and usually come in pairs," Tenten says, freeing one from the desk's surface. She holds the familiar weight of the short yet broad sword in one hand, displaying the curved hand guard to the terrified woman and continues, "See this? It's usually used for defending against incoming attacks, but it can also be used as brass knuckles, for striking and the like."

Without warning, she brings the hilt of the sword crushing down on the woman's trapped hand and is rewarded by the crunching feedback of the woman's little finger breaking.

"I'm going to ask you some questions," she says, holding her prisoner's jaw shut with one hand to muffle her agonized articulations. It would not do to have her biting her own tongue off on accident or some such. She pauses for a moment, then finishes, "And you're going to answer them. Or I'm going to break more of your fingers. Understand?"

A frantic nod.

"Good. Name?"

"K-Karin," the woman chokes out.

"Karin. Hm. Where did you send Neji?"

"A-Another base. I-In the T-Tea Countr-try. Degarashi Port."

"Thanks. Look, we're almost done. Quit blubbering. Last question."

Tenten leans in close and says in a voice like liquid venom, "What did you offer Neji?"

A hesitation.

This time, Tenten breaks two fingers in rapid succession. She doesn't bother stifling the subsequent scream. There is no one around to hear, anyway.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" Tenten offers with a sickly sweet smile, "What did you offer Neji?"

Karin spits at her, but her saliva is blocked by the flat side of Tenten's sword.

"I'd rather die than tell you!"

"That wasn't very smart of you," Tenten snarls, "Well, I can find out from him, anyway. You've been most helpful. Goodbye, Karin."

She doesn't bother wiping off the spittle as she cocks her hand back. Karin closes her eyes, as though resigned to her fate. Something catches Tenten's wrist before she can start her decapitating stroke, though, and she stiffens. She can count on one hand the number of people who can stop her weapon arm mid-swing and are still alive, and she knows the feel of those half-bandaged fingers.

"Enough, Tenten."

She sighs and turns her regard on the person behind her.

"What are you doing here, Lee?"

Feedback is welcome.


	10. Discord

Chapter 10: _Discord_

"Let go, Lee."

"No."

Tenten glares and Lee stares back steadfastly as only Lee can. Two needles clatter to the ground behind her as Karin frees herself and rapidly disappears in a puff of smoke. Tenten hisses in irritation, snatching her hand free of Lee's grip. He makes no move to pursue, choosing instead to remain standing between her and the only exit to the room. She jerks her head to one side, indicating the outside.

"Are there more coming?" she asks, prying her paired blade free of the table. She holds it in a loose grip along with her first, trying to appear nonthreatening while maintaining a ready stance. There is a lengthy silence as Lee regards her quietly with opaque black eyes before he shakes his head in the negative. Tenten breathes a sigh of relief.

"Let's go, then," she says, sheathing her weapons. Lee doesn't budge. She frowns. The thought occurs to her that perhaps he is not here strictly to aid her retrieval efforts. She is reluctant to put herself in immediate range of him when his intentions are still unclear and settles back just a hair, watching him warily.

"The Black Ops team caught up to Neji," Lee says stiffly. Tenten's eyebrows migrate upward. This is certainly news, though her teammate seems less than happy about the affair. She crosses her arms, awaiting an explanation for the non sequitur response. His mouth works for a moment and he looks down in regret as he explains, "All three of them are in the hospital now. Neji is still on the move."

"So let's go after him," Tenten grates angrily, impatience sparking a fire in her, "What're you waiting for?"

"Tenten, he took out a team of Konoha's elite by himself. What makes you think you can stop him?"

"'You can stop him'?" Tenten echoes, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "Not we? You're not coming with me? What are you doing here, then?"

"To stop you from getting hurt."

Before his explanation even finishes, Tenten's swords have snapped out of their holsters again. She sees him tense ever so slightly, but still refuses to make any sort of larger movement.

"I do not want to fight you, Tenten."

"Then get out of my way."

"You know I cannot do that. You cannot stop him. You will be lucky to come out of an encounter with him alive, Tenten."

Again with that sentiment. Tenten bares her teeth and crouches low, her blades flashing in the dim light. She has never seen Lee this serious before. Gone are the speeches about youth, the ridiculous antics and the flashing smiles. In her heart of hearts, she knows that he will not let her pass while he is still able to stand, out of concern for her well-being, but she doesn't have time to waste. If Neji has gone to a port town, he could move from there to almost anywhere else, by sea or by land. She has to find him before he reaches that base, or else she'll risk losing him for good. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she tries to appeal to Lee one more time.

"Please, Lee," she says in a hushed voice, "He is our teammate. We have to try, at least."

Lee reaches into his pouch and withdraws a small clay bottle. He sighs and uncorks it. The acrid scent of alcohol hits Tenten's nose, wrinkling it unconsciously and her eyes widen. She has seen the destruction he has wreaked with his Drunken Fist once before.

"Please reconsider, Tenten. I do not want to fight you."

His readiness is belied by his stoic posture and he snatches his bottle out of the way of Tenten's blurring slash without spilling a drop. He drains it in one gulp, pulling a face as he does so. Tenten reverses her cut, but the damage is done. He spins languidly around to her back, pressing down the weight of his body against her as she tries to straighten again. She kicks off of the ground hard, breaking free, but receives a heavy hammerfist to the shoulder that nearly tumbles her to the earth as she moves away.

Damn, that one hurt.

She rolls her arm, trying to reduce the rapid swelling from the blow and winces. Lee staggers towards her, swaying erratically. She knows that the basis of the Drunken Fist is unpredictability and a series of unorthodox feints: the exact opposite of her systematic and precise fighting style. He leans forward and she swipes instinctively at him, but he is already rolling under her arc. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembers Neji's advice and relaxes, exhaling as Lee's foot pistons into her stomach. It hurts, but not as much as it normally would.

Her feet skid backward and she pinwheels her arms to keep balanced, managing somehow to retain her wind. Lee stumbles drunkenly at her, his back turned, and only instinct saves her as she raises an arm to block a clubbing backfist. He rebounds, pivoting and attacking her open flank and she jolts to one side as his forearm wings her, sending her crashing into the table. She leans on it for support momentarily, trying to collect her thoughts and formulate a strategy.

Red pain lances through her. Not good. The shot to her abdomen must have done more damage than she thought, even with Neji's mitigation technique. No time to nurse her wounds. She vaults over just as Lee's jackknifing body obliterates the oaken surface, sending splinters every which way.

His leg, she decides. She'll have to take out his leg. Lee may be the fastest of their class, but even he won't be able to catch her while inebriated and with only one good leg. She'll have to be surgically accurate. One wrong move and she could hit an artery and end up killing him.

She lunges forward, stabbing out with both swords, only to find herself stopped by Lee's upraised knee. Undaunted, she slices inward, but he drops under her crossing blades and she finds herself falling toward him. Her descending chin is abruptly halted by the point of his elbow, rattling her senses. She struggles to right herself through the dizziness, but another kick sends her flying into a nearby cabinet.

Tenten wipes blood away from her lips and unleashes a string of swear words under her breath. He's far too fast for her to intercept normally. Her jaw sets in resolve as she makes the inevitable conclusion: she'll have to take a hit intentionally to get a debilitating one in on him. She moves forward deliberately, ignoring Lee's unsteady feints and wobbling steps. Just take the hit and strike back hard, she chants to herself like a grim mantra.

She doesn't see exactly what he uses, but it lands like a ton of bricks, and the world flashes white before her eyes. Tenten grits her teeth, resisting the urge to cry out and the humming lull of unconsciousness, lashing out hard with her sword at his right ankle. Her triumphant relief is replaced by horror as her blade skips off something hard and is ripped out of her hand by the reverberant force. A solid left straight to her torso, and this time, she hears her ribs crack.

His leg weights. Of course. Dammit, how could she have forgotten? She sees Lee coming in again, but has not the breath to dodge. Tenten braces for the end.

Without warning, he falls over. She blinks, trying to clear her pain-blurred vision and tries to focus her sight. By some miracle, she has shorn off one of his absurdly heavy sets of iron weights, and the imbalance between his limbs has thrown him off completely. Already, he is trying to remove the other set, but his fingers have been made clumsy by the intoxicating effects of the alcohol. She is on him in a flash, ignoring the shooting agony that accompanies each breath, beating him relentlessly to the ground with hilt and hand and restraining him securely with braided steel cords.

Tenten stands and nearly vomits from the wave of nauseating pain that threatens to overwhelm her. She has at least one broken rib, for sure. Her eyes fall on the cabinet Lee opened with her body and she crawls over, rifling through it. Poisons. Reports. Bandages. Fat lot of good those will do her. Just as she is about to give up, her hand falls on a small, locked metal box. She smashes the padlock off, nearly screaming as her fractured bone flares up again, reminding her of its presence.

There is a small syringe inside, the kind used in the field to deliver medicines. Through the transparent cap, she can see two hypodermic needles, instead of one. Odd. She doesn't have the luxury of questioning it, though, and pockets it for later inspection. For now, she has to keep moving. Tenten limps around Lee's bound form, murmuring an apology to her teammate in passing.

Feedback is welcome.


	11. Damnation

Chapter 11: _Damnation_

Tenten stumbles through the curtaining rain, clutching her side. She has thrown up several times already, and further attempts only result in dry heaves, leaving her panting and out of breath. Three days. She has gone three days without sleep, but there is no time for that. Neji may have been slowed by the Black Ops team, but he'll still be moving. The unknown medicine in her pocket becomes more and more tempting with each wracking step. She has already determined that it isn't any kind of poison she knows of. What could it hurt?

No. Whatever may be, it is still from Orochimaru's labs. It is strictly a last resort. She struggles onward, unsure if the fog before her eyes is from her own breath in the chilled air or from the pain. That's enough rest for now. Mustering up her willpower and energy, she takes to the trees, taking the flying leaps one at a time, trying her best not to slip. The branches are made slick by the falling water, and a misstep will send her tumbling to the forest floor.

Onward. Ever onward. It seems that she is now chasing her teammate's back not only in training but also in life. The irony almost makes her laugh. She thinks of Lee, likely still incapacitated behind her, and wonders where it all went wrong.

Tenten hears it incoming before she sees it: a combination sibilant hiss and whining whistle. It's a sound she's heard many times, though usually leaving from her hand. A throwing knife with an explosive tag. It detonates to her left, slamming her off balance with a solid wall of concussive air. She flails in midair, snatching desperately at twigs and leaves, none of which offer her any purchase. Branches blur past her, several smashing into her plummeting body and sending her into a spiraling free fall. She feels liquid well up in her lungs, threatening to drown her in her own blood.

After an eternity of battering torment, she hits the ground.

Crimson mist bursts forth from her lips, quickly washed away by pregnant raindrops. She can't see for a moment; the world is naught but red-white agony. Her attempt to roll to her feet is rewarded by a sickening pain in her right leg. Broken. With bleeding fingers, she drags herself along the muddy ground. Dimly, she is aware of someone dropping to the ground behind her.

"You look terrible, Traitor."

It's spoken like it's her name. The speaker – a male – lands a brutal kick to her side and sends her careening in uncontrolled tumbles. Panic overtakes her as a fresh wave of suffocating copper washes into her throat and it is all she can do to raise her face out of the muck long enough to expel it. Through an obscuring film of tears and rainwater, she sees the pale complexion and black clothes of her attacker.

"S...Sai," she coughs wetly. He smiles in acknowledgment of his name, but the expression is utterly devoid of any sort of warmth or comfort. She knows very little about him, other than the fact that he had Black Ops level training and no emotions to speak of. In her condition, she would be hard-pressed to stave off a civilian, let alone him. Weakly, she mumbles, "D...Do me a f...favor."

He tilts his head to one side. She says something, but her voice is too feeble to be heard over the rain. Clearing her throat gingerly, she tries again. Still nothing.

"You'll have to speak up, Traitor," he prompts with false cheer. He has the chivalry to lean down, at least.

"I s...said," Tenten begins shakily. She gropes out blindly for his collar, curling her fingers into it and yanking him close to rasp, "_Go to hell_."

She slaps an exploding tag onto his face with her opposite hand and falls limp, letting the shockwave sweep her shattered body away.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Tenten lands in a small gully, too delirious to care about the pain or the dizziness. Her arm is blackened and numb. She doesn't know if it's intact, but she likely won't be using it for a while. In the depths of her sluggish mind, she realizes something is out of place. Sai has the means to catch up to her, but he does not have the tracking skills to f–

"Heh, nice move, that one."

Kiba Inuzuka. He must have scented her while one of Sai's ink birds carried the two along her trail. The thought of being tracked down like a prey item by someone as animalistic as that one fills her with revulsion. She catches a whiff of wet dog as Kiba squats before her, flashing those bestial canines of his at her in a savage mockery of a grin.

"I don't s...suppose you're here t...to help me. Is Akamaru h...here, too?" Tenten asks, shuddering to suppress another cough. Breathing is becoming unbearable, but even small movements are worse.

"Nah," Kiba shrugs, "Not enough room on those stinkin' birds for four. Gotta take you back, after all."

"Only you l...left to take out, then," she says, resting her head back against the bank and allowing herself a moment of reprieve. Kiba blinks at her incredulously, then lets out a whooping bark of a laugh.

"Take me out? You? Like that? Please. Anyway, Sai's still fine."

Tenten's eyes snap open as she sees Sai slide down the slippery slope. Half of his face is burnt raw and a good portion of his shirt has been blown away, but he moves in the manner of someone completely uninjured. Damn. She must have underestimated his capabilities.

"Hello again, Traitor," he says with that same mirthless smile.

"So what's it gonna be, sugar?" Kiba smirks, "Easy way or the hard way?"

Tenten feels incredibly tired and her head lolls to one side, but manages a quiet, "You can g...go to hell too, Kiba."

Kiba reaches out and touches his fingertips to the underside of her chin to turn her regard back on him. The gesture would have been intimate, were it not for the scalpel-sharp claws that prickled her skin.

"You're closer, sugar."

"Yeah... s...suppose you're right..."

Sai lunges forward as her hand dives into her pocket, but he is too far away and Kiba is too focused on her face to notice either action until, with a snap of her fingers, Tenten pops the glass lid off of the hypodermic needle and jams it into the side of her own neck.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Acid burns through her veins and spreads through her body. The rain feels like liquid fire, sizzling in heated protest against her skin. But she feels so... alive. The pain is empowering. Empowering her. Though. Who is she? No matter. With a sweep of her hand, she knocks the fanged man into the pale one, blasting them into the dirt. Good. That's where they belong, the worms.

The fanged one stands. Who the fuck is he? An animal. No better than an animal. Disgusting. And that face. She's behind him, dragging that ugly face through the mud and burying it down deep. Disgusting. The pale one looks surprised. Surprised at her strength? Her speed? Only because he's weak. He draws a short sword from his back. Ha. Challenging her with weapons. She catches his wrist and crushes his cheekbone with a backhand. He doesn't fall fast enough for her liking, so she clubs him again.

She decides he can stay standing. But his legs are going soft. He's soft. She skewers him through the shoulder with his joke of a sword and impales him onto the dirt wall. He'll fit right in with the rest of the dirt. Trash. The fanged one is yelling something at her. Shut the fuck up, animal. He claws at her. Dumb beast. The hell does he think he is? She hits him three times before his strike reaches her and scrapes ineffectually off of her iron skin. Not that there was any force behind it. He's already unconscious. Stupid worthless beast. She snaps his arm for good measure. Doesn't how to use it properly, anyway. Maybe she should just rip it off.

No. Something... wrong. Reason... why are there feathers on her skin? Prey... have to find prey. White eyes. The world elongates into a blurred tunnel as she streaks through the trees. Black feathers. She must be an angel. Yes, yes, that's right. She's an angel.

No. Neji. Have to save Neji. She falls to her knees, the patterned feathers receding, crawling over her body. Weak. She is weak. No. Synergy of mind and body. Forcing... weak. Neji. She screams as the last of the feathers are swallowed up into the triple pinwheel of commas on her neck.

Tenten. She is Tenten. Yes, she is Tenten, and she realizes in horror that she has branded herself with Orochimaru's Cursed Seal of Heaven.

Feedback is welcome.


	12. Interlude: dungeon walls

Interlude: _dungeon walls_

Tenten tugged hard at the solid iron chains constricting her arms and they rattled in mockery of her futile effort. She had been caught in her civilian guise and thrown in prison for knocking out the drunk who had decided it would be a good idea to put the moves on her in a completely uncivilized manner. Thanks to her temper, their covert mission was now in jeopardy. She knew Neji had the ability to pull it off without her, though, and more than enough dedication to Konoha to leave her behind as he...

Footsteps from the other side of her cell door shook her from her thoughts and she steeled herself for what was to come. She was an outsider to this place, and outsiders were not treated kindly, especially not those who assaulted their citizens. Unconsciously, she held her breath as the heavy oaken portal swung open.

"N-Neji?" she stammered.

Neji said nothing as he knelt in front of her, busying himself with ridding her of her restraints. She glanced outside hurriedly, wary of the guard stationed to watch her captivity. All her searching eyes found was a corpse, lying still in a pool of rapidly-cooling blood.

"What about the mission?" she hissed, jerking her wrists away as soon as they were free.

"Failed," Neji responded coolly, a wry smile twisting his lips, "My alias was compromised when I broke into their prison."

Tenten could have hit him. She would have, too, but he effortlessly blocked her strike and tugged her out of the room by the hand.

"You should have left me!"

Neji whirled on her and she was momentarily taken aback by the intensity blazing in his mercurial eyes.

"Not an option," he snapped, his expression immediately softening as his words echoed powerfully in the corridor. Tenten stood still, paralyzed by the completely uncharacteristic lack of inhibition in her teammate's demeanor. After a long moment, he grunted ambiguously and averted his gaze, preferring to concentrate his attentions instead on leading her out of the dank complex she had been locked up in. She followed along without protest, still reeling from his outburst.

"Just think of it as an early birthday present," he scowled, "So don't expect anything else this year."

It was a lie, though. A week later, he still treated her to dinner.

Feedback is welcome.


	13. Reach

Chapter 13: _Reach_

Degarashi Port appears over the crest of the last hill with the salty scent of the oceanic breeze. Tenten's knees nearly give out at the welcome sight, as foreign as it may be. She has had to jog the last stretch, from evening until morning. The slightest exertion more would bring with it the burning spread of the cursed seal and the gibbering insanity that whispered at the edges of Tenten's mind.

No matter. The end is in sight.

She makes her way through the town toward the docks. It is still early, and merchants are only just beginning to set up their shops and stalls. The roads are mostly empty and she traverses them unimpeded, arriving at the docks soon after. There's no sign of Neji, only the amiable chatter of friendly fisherman and the gentle lapping of waves. Now that she has reached the main exit for the town, she can work her way inward, confident that Neji will not slip past her.

The town is beginning to awaken, though, and an increasing number of people start to mill about in the streets. Tenten tries not to consider the fact that Neji may already have left. She weaves through the crowd carefully, occasionally getting jostled by a careless passerby, but she never takes her eyes from their search. He's here. He has to be here. Panic begins to claw at her insides, and her mouth feels dry. Has her entire journey been for nothing?

There! On edges of her vision, she sees a flash of white hair, so brief it may as well have been an illusion. She surges through the crowd after it, rounding the corner. It is Kimimaro, no, Neji, perhaps only fifty feet away. She moves faster now, barging through the throng, haphazardly shoving people out of the way. Wares fly and dropped boxes splinter, but she gives them not a second glance. She calls out to her teammate, but her cries are lost in the midst of shouting merchants and idle chatter.

He vanishes, phantom-like, into the dark maw of a small building and she presses on faster, acutely aware of the threatening tingle at the base of her neck. Someone she overturned previously catches up to her through the swath that she's cut in the busy marketplace, putting a hand on her shoulder and yelling at her to stop. Tenten has no time for apologies, no time for conversation. Without looking, she turns around and hurls a fist into his face, hurrying inside as he releases his grip and staggers backward.

A pair of guards moves to intercept her. Dammit. She is in no condition for combat.

Thinking fast, she yanks her collar down, revealing the ebony ink of the cursed seal. Both men blanch and step away, and she whispers a silent prayer to whichever deity watches over her as she moves through them. The way through is mostly linear, with scattered branches of residential areas, holding cells and what appears to be another lab. There are checkpoints set at regular intervals, as well, but her mark affords her passage through all of them. More worryingly, the further in she goes, the louder the sound of the sea becomes.

The last stretch is a straight and vaulted hallway. Tenten's worst fears are realized as she catches the smell of the salt and kelp on the cool wind and she arrives at the edge of the cove to see a ship disappearing into open waters with sails unfurled and full.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

No. No, she refuses to accept it. She doubles back towards the lab she saw earlier. There has to be a map or a chart or something. Some kind of clue as to where Neji went. Some of the guards give her strange looks, having seen her go through the other way just moments prior, but their apprehension keeps their lips sealed. She reaches the lab again and closes the door behind her quietly, searching frantically through the folders and cabinets as soon as the lock clicks. Paper flutters around her like errant butterfly wings, settling to the ground like mournful funereal shrouds.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

A man in a lab coat stands up from where he was working, looking bemused at first at Tenten's sudden appearance, then irate. Shit. How had she not seen him before? He moves over to her and sets about straightening what she has knocked over.

"Who gave you the authority to come in here?" he demands angrily. Tenten flashes him the cursed seal, but he is not impressed. She doesn't have time for this, and she can't risk his braying bringing in more guards. Tenten takes a quick look around. They are alone.

"I don't care if you do have that thing, you can't just storm in h–"

In one decisive movement, she steps behind him and hamstrings him, clamping one hand over his mouth to stifle his pain as he sinks to the ground. Without a second thought, she slits his throat. His blood stains the papers on the floor scarlet, but she has already forgotten about him, busying herself with her frantic rifling. There is a soft, watery chuckle. Instinctively, she raises the knife, ready to stab the scientist again, but a voice, like oil over ice, speaks from another corner of the room.

"That was brutal. Just my style."

Tenten whirls on the source. A tank of water?

"Ah, yeah, that's me. You're after that bone guy, aren't you? Karin's new toy."

"Who are you? What do you know about... about Kimimaro?" she demands. For an instant, she thinks she sees the vague impression of a face in the liquid, but perhaps it is just her reflection. Or perhaps it is her mind, finally cracking under the immense strain of the past few days. She tries not to dwell on that possibility.

"Ah ah ah, rude. I'm Suigetsu. Suigetsu Houzuki. Pleased to meet you. As for... heh... 'Kimimaro'. He's off to another base. In the middle of the circle of islands. There's a map to it on my left."

Tenten's hand tightens on the hilt of her weapon before she relinquishes her frenzied grip. How would she harm water, anyway? Could it harm her? She edges around the tank, snatching up the map quickly and giving it a cursory glance, still wary.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Hm... why indeed. Mostly because... I hate Karin."

Tenten's eyes narrow suspiciously.

"And Orochimaru?"

"Hate him, too," the speaker bubbles, without missing a beat, "You think I want to be trapped in here?"

"I'll let you out, then," Tenten says after a moment of hesitation, "And you can help me."

"Nah," Suigetsu replies easily with a roiling, fluid chuckle, "I got my own agenda. Anyway, someone will be here for me soon. You're a good kid, whoever you are. The real map's to my right."

Tenten slams the point of her knife down into a desk, dark anger boiling through her veins. She feels the cursed seal spreading and hurries to tamp down her raging emotions.

"Don't fuck with me."

"Tsk, ah. At least I gave you the right information in the end."

"Or so you say."

"Mmm, true. But you don't have anything else to go on, do you?"

Tenten sweeps out of the room, taking both maps with her. She has no time to waste.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

"I need your boat."

She must have made quite a sight, clearing the hundred feet from the pier to the fishing boat in one leap and half tattooed in ebon feathers. The fisherman recoils, only relaxing somewhat when she dumps a sizable bag of money brusquely into his hands. For a career ninja like her, it is only a significant amount, but for him, it is easily a month's worth of hard work.

"I-I... when?" he stammers.

"Now."

That is all the warning he receives before her hand seizes his neck in a vice-like grip. There is a moment's hesitation as he chokes in her iron grasp before she heaves him bodily overboard. Thankfully, the sail is already set and the boat is already making progress. It is not quite as large as she would have liked, nor is it quite as fast, but it will have to do.

She opens both maps and estimates a middle course between the two. Once she reaches the point of divergence, she will have to navigate by virtue of her eyes alone. Mentally, she curses never having paid more attention to nautical studies.

Tenten curls up against the mast, trying her best to ignore the whispering voices of doubt and darkness in the corners of her mind. It's becoming harder and harder to control the impulses seeded in her by the cursed seal: it was all she could do to stop herself from snapping the fisherman's neck. The shadowy patterns retreat, leaving her shivering and in a cold sweat.

She can only pray that her luck will hold.

Feedback is welcome.


	14. Reavers

Chapter 14: _Reavers_

Tenten wakes up drenched in the cool ocean mists. Damn. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, though she feels much better now. How long had it been since she had slept? It feels like an eternity since she'd been standing in the Lady Hokage's office, being debriefed from her last mission. She smooths out her maps; fortunately, they were waterproof. It's hopeless, though. The fog obscures the already darkening night sky, and there are no landmarks in sight.

She searches through her little craft for a candle or lantern of some sort. Nothing. It had only been meant for short excursions just outside of the bay to catch fish, not for extended voyages like this. No food, either. Not for the first time in the past few days, she curses her situation. The unfairness of it all almost overwhelms her, but she refuses to cry. No, she is strong, and she will see this through to the end.

Like a ghostly goliath, the prow of a huge ship looms out of the fog and Tenten dares to breathe a sigh of relief. She calls out to the leviathan, waving her arms above her head, though they are sodden and heavy with moisture. The watchman sees her – she can tell by the way he points and shouts to his comrades – but to her horror, the dreadnaught speeds up and turns onto a deliberate collision course.

She had heard reports of corsairs attacking merchant vessels and terrorizing travelers in these waters. Misfortune upon misfortunes. Hastily, she folds the maps up and clenches them in her teeth, drawing her butterfly swords to challenge the advancing behemoth. It surges through the waves, deceptively fast for its bulk, and crushes her tiny boat to splinters without so much as slowing.

Tenten leaps clear just in time, driving her blades into the wooden hull and latching on like a stubborn barnacle. The splash of oceanic crests chills her already frigid form and she knows she cannot stay there indefinitely. Using her impromptu climbing equipment as portable handles, she works herself up the sheer face. She is aware that the cursed seal has begun to spread, but survival is first on her mind, now.

Five feet below the edge of the deck, she sinks her swords deep into the solid cladding, splintering it with the force, and braces herself atop them. With a quick inhale-exhale to steady her nerves, she launches herself up and over the railing. Instantly, all eyes turn to her – she counts at least twenty pairs – and she just manages to cram the maps away before she is set upon by the seaborne raiders.

She drops down, tucking into a roll and rising with a full-bodied straight that doubles over the first man she meets and throws the remainder of her momentum into a spinning guillotine elbow at the back of his head. He slams to the deck as surely as if crushed by the palm of an invisible giant, and she ducks as well, narrowly avoiding the metallic swath cut overhead by his partner's sword. Before he can recover, she produces from her back a pair of pronged wind and fire wheels, adopting a low, ready stance.

Tenten catches the next swing of her closest enemy on the edged rim of her new weapons, arching her back and deflecting it high with one wheel while the other rips across horizontally, laying his throat open with one of seven undulating flame blades. She continues her pirouette with both arms extended, making space and bloodying any who would near her. They are cautious now, made wary by the rapid incapacitation of two of their crewmates.

She can hear rumbling and shouting beneath her feet. Of course. A ship of this size would have an appropriately large crew, and more are doubtlessly on their way. One quick step brings her before her next victim, who manages to parry her short forward thrust, but not the accompanying high to low arc that nearly takes his arm off. This movement is balanced out by a backswing of her other weapon, which buries itself into the gut of the sailor that had attempted to attack her unguarded back.

Tenten kicks out, toppling over the buccaneer before her, who seems more concerned with keeping his body intact at this point, and steps over him to make a run for the hatch leading to the lower decks. She reaches it just as the first would-be reinforcement pokes his head up from under the trapdoor and promptly takes his eyes with a low strike of her left arm. He falls back, howling, bowling over the group of men behind him as he tumbles down the staircase, and the hatch falls shut again. Tenten pins it down with her other wheel, locking the points in with a stomp of her foot on the padded handle.

She swivels just in time to parry the frenzied slashing of two swords on the wide circumference of her remaining weapon, disarming both of her ambushers with a deft twist of her wrist. As they fall back toward the safety of their comrades, she feels her emotions spike irrationally at their cowardice. Then the burning comes: the wild rush of her blood in the heat of battle as the cursed seal begins to take over.

Before they can reach their haven, she has secured another length of razor cord onto the hilt of her wheel and whipped it around, crippling their legs in one arc. They go down, aghast at the raven-feathered spectacle before them, fingers scrabbling for purchase on blood-slickened planks.

Tenten lets the cord spiral around her body, shredding her clothes but leaving her unnaturally fortified skin untouched as she pins the flying wheel underfoot. A whirling butterfly kick unwinds the lanyard and sends the metal disk at the end shooting out to thud into another target's skull. Eight down. Eight kill markers painted on the ship's hide. The remaining insects surge forward, but are caught in the cutting spiderweb of her frenetic strands as she whips her wire back and forth. A sharp jerk shreds their fragile bodies and paints the deck crimson.

Someone is yelling something from the helm, on the dais in the back of the ship. The captain. A captain of curs, a captain of worms. She's in front of him before he can blink, stepping out of the way of her trailing comet's tail, which takes his first mate's head cleanly from his shoulders. She snaps the cord back and severs it with her teeth, hurling the stained star behind her. One of the pirates had been trying to free more trash from below deck, and the projectile lifts him off of his feet and pins him like a grotesque butterfly to the main mast.

"Call them off," she snarls between gnashing teeth. The captain does not respond, his eyes darting left and right, looking for an escape. Tenten hisses in rage, more black feathers than white skin now, grabbing him by the collar and heaving him into the air with one hand. She needs speech. Words. Words to talk. Understand. "_Call them off!_"

The worms burst forth from their subterranean prison and wriggle forward across the ground in an ungainly way. Her captive looks relieved. Disgusting. Worms, drawn out by the sanguine rain. The rain will wash them away. Tenten's cursed seal glows rosily and consumes the last of her.

Four wings burst from Tenten's back, exposing metal feathers to the copper air. They quiver with anticipation. Their birth marks the death all else. The first of the worms crests the ascending staircase. But he is not meant to occupy the realm of angels. With a rattling gnash of iron on iron, the angel's wings explode, filling the air with angry shrapnel and screaming blades, savaging the worms like wheat before the scythe. Sweet death flares Tenten's nostrils and she smiles.

Maps. She tears them free of her shirt and waves them before the captain.

"Go," she commands. Lovely. Her voice is lovely, all ringing steel and silver-edged. He scrambles to take the wheel, clinging onto it for dear life. Protests. He's protesting. Can't read the maps. She nails his feet to the ground with her feathers. Can he read them now? He cries affirmatively and Tenten smiles again.

She glides down into the bowels of the ship. The hellhole. There are worms aplenty here, but they shrink away from her. They fear her. Demon worms must fear iron angels. She draws two swords from her regrown wings. It is their fear that makes them weak, and death will free them from fear. She shivers with excitement, advancing on them with weapons bared. There is plenty of room on the inside of the hull, and she will display the worms as butterflies with her silver pins. It is a far better fate than they deserve. They are blessed worms, for she is there to free them. A chorus of agony calls out her praise and she smiles.

Feedback is welcome.


	15. Realization

Chapter 15: _Realization_

The world lurches violently out of its endless spin as the ship grinds to an abrupt halt on the beach. Tenten lofts a length of rope down the side and gingerly lowers herself toward solid land once more, the whirling nausea reawakening as she descends. She does not look back; the captain has long since succumbed to his wounds. Part of the hull has been ruptured by the rough landing and the brine and blood contained within cascade down the wooden planks, like a dying beast bleeding in sympathy for its fallen master.

Her legs buckle when she hits the ground and pitch her headfirst into the sand. She tastes grit and salt in her teeth and struggles not to vomit, half-afraid that she will find human flesh in her stomach. The journey is a blur to her, full of screaming and full of death; the fevered memory alone makes her queasy and she forces herself to her feet and to move onward. She manages to stumble her way haphazardly all the way to the treeline, whereupon she collapses again, breathing raggedly. Tenten chokes down a bit of dried fish she has salvaged from the pirates. It tastes – and reeks – of death, but it fills her hollow stomach somewhat and helps it settle.

Voices. Up ahead. Tenten is instantly on the alert, adrenaline thrumming through her veins. Her cursed seal – is it hers, or is she its? – is mercifully dormant; she assumes it has either burnt itself out or burnt her out. She dares even to hope that she has learned better control of it, somehow. It tingles faintly even as she mulls over its existence, as though aware, and she is more or less relieved to know that its power is still available to her. She grits her teeth in helpless anger at own thought process. When did she stop relying on her own strength? No matter. For now, it's survival first and methodology last. She isn't sure where Neji falls on her list of priorities. Would she die for him?

She shakes her head to clear it, instantly regretting the action as another wave of dizziness threatens to pull her under. No time for that now. Tenten creeps through the foliage carefully, producing a full complement of throwing daggers and setting aside a slender rapier – also scavenged from the scavengers – as the silhouettes of a group of people become visible to her.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Neji maintains a stoic silence as he walks, guarded on all sides by Orochimaru's subordinates. They did not question his lie about delivering Kimimaro to their master and have not even bound him in any way; their fanaticism must blind them to even basic logic. He ignores their laughs and jeers. There is nothing to be gained from contesting them at this point. Let them gloat, if they so wish. They will see his true intentions in time, and not a moment before then.

One of the jesters finds himself especially humorous and lets out a raucous bray of ignorant mirth. It dies the instant it leaves his lips in a gurgle as the hilt of a throwing dagger seems to sprout from his throat. His companions are fools, baring cutlasses and cowering low in vain attempts to ward off the wrathful hornets that buzz through thick and fast to mow them down. The vengeful metals hit their marks unerringly, and before the first corpse hits the ground, all but the three behind Neji are dead.

It is Tenten, he knows, and she is exhausted. No one else could have killed his escorts so efficiently, and to finish off the huddled survivors would have only taken a few steps to sufficiently change the angle. He is proven right on both accounts as his teammate steps out of the shadows in front of him, leaning slightly on a thin sword with a weary weight no one would have noticed, save for those who know her best.

A similar weight drops into his heart at her appearance. He can feel the regard of his remaining entourage in his back, and he cannot reveal his artifice yet. Tenten's entrance has put him in a position where he can only preserve either his objective or her life. Even as he compresses strands of calcium together inside his body, he knows that she will not be able to defend herself for long.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Damn. Three left.

Tenten steps out boldly, armed and ready, hoping that she appears stronger than she feels. Her bluff holds for the moment; none of the survivors dare to peek around Neji's borrowed body. She grins slightly as she hefts the length of steel up. Despite her crushing fatigue, the tip does not waver, and neither does her resolve. This is the instant she's been waiting for the whole time. She can finally take Neji home.

Confusion gives way to shock as Neji shakes his head ever so slightly and unsheathes a blade of bone from his skin. She barely moves her head out of the way in time to avoid the osseous bullet that thwacks into the tree behind her. The next projectile – fired out of his phalange – skips off of her hand guard and wracks her wrists with rattling vibrations. She doesn't know if she moved to parry, or if the shot was poorly aimed.

Her arm is still numb when she lifts it, just in time to halt the advance of Neji's overhand chop. She hardly notices. The rest of her seems numb as well. Her rapier snaps in half under the smashing force of another assault, and Tenten raises her hands mechanically in the Shape Will stance.

Parry. Parry. Evade. Attack. Parry. The defenses are alien and robotic, like watching someone else fight. Her attacks are without passion and fall far short of their mark. What is happening? Why are they fighting? What happened to the happy ending to her epic tale? The severing void of denial fills with the boiling magma of outrage. How _dare_ he. How dare he look at her with those malachite eyes, probing for weaknesses when she has rid herself of that luxury for him? How dare he spit on what she has discarded and what she has endured?

Tears break through her dam walls with the pressure pent up over several days. Are they of anger or sadness? Her vision blurs, but there is still no dark coffee hair. No, it is only Kimimaro and that damn slashing edge, taunting her with the doom that has already overshadowed her soul. The doom that her body still automatically fends off, through the haze and through the pain. This is not the strength she sought, and this is not the Neji she knew. She had been cut in the past, but she only now realizes how much hurt an untouched body can feel.

"You're in the way."

Never have his words rung out so cold. This shell, this copy, this imposter, dares to desecrate, to mock, her memory of her teammate in this way? Even the voice is foreign to her, projected from unfamiliar vocal cords over ever-shifting air to break her heart. Her grief soaks into the granules underfoot, but her cheeks are fast-drying in the swirling wind, and she makes her decision as she deflects the next charge.

Kimimaro will die, even if she must die with him.

Another thrust and she skids back from her hasty dodge. She knows that she only has enough energy for one lethal technique: a heart-rupturing Shape Will straight. The focused strike will bypass bone like a shaped charge and detonate fatally like poetic vengeance. Kimimaro's feints are transparent, and his blows are like child's play to defend against. He is clearly unused to the way his body moves and is amateurish at best with a weapon. His tactical sense is flawless, though, and Tenten finds herself cornered against a log too large to step over.

She welcomes it though, bracing her back foot against the implacable mass. Certainly, he would not have suspected a suicidal sacrifice from her, and from the looks of it, he still does not realize her ploy. Her analysis of Kimimaro's attack patterns is almost complete, and the leverage can only assist her. The soft turf no longer hinders her, and she readies herself for the end. For both of their ends.

Time seems to slow as Kimimaro rears back one last time. The space between thuds of her pounding heart stretches on for an eternity. Funny how it can still work, despite feeling as though it's been shattered. Focus. The next target will be her carotid artery, a glancing, diagonal pass from his right to her left. She will go into shock within seconds and be dead before the minute ends, but it is more than enough time.

She closes her eyes and unleashes the end of all things.

Feedback is welcome.


	16. Interlude: rain

Interlude: _rain_

The raindrops beat a merry cadence on Neji's umbrella, sloughing off in transparent waterfalls. He picked his way fastidiously around a stray puddle as he made his way homeward.

"Hey, Neji! Wait up!"

He turned, mild surprise registering on his expression as his eyes caught the form of Tenten, splashing across the ground carelessly and waving one hand as she ran toward him. She stopped beside him and he moved his shelter slightly to include her as well.

"Thanks," she said gratefully and he nodded slightly in acknowledgment. The rainwater was lukewarm at best and her cheeks were flushed from the chill, but she wore a grin that simply didn't belong amidst gloomy rainclouds. He waited for her to catch her breath before starting off again, making sure to keep them both dry.

"I read a book once," Tenten began cheerfully.

"Indeed?" he asked, the ghost of a smirk betraying his amusement.

She hit him lightly on the shoulder, careful not to push herself out of the bounds of their shared refuge.

"It said that in fiction and stuff like that, rain is symbolic of cleansing, of starting anew."

Neji said nothing, merely gazed out at the rippling lake that had replaced the streets as they accepted the falling droplets from above. His pale eyes turned to the shorter girl beside him and he exhaled slowly, unintentionally generating a small cloud over her head.

"I see," he said wanly.

She favored him with her brightest smile and tugged on his voluminous sleeve.

"Let's go play in the rain!" she enthused.

He arched an imperious eyebrow.

"A moment ago, you were trying to avoid it," Neji pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm warm now," she chirped, "Aw, Neji, you never play in the rain. There's no one around who'll see, c'mon, let's go!"

She bounded forward several steps, kicking up a great commotion and seeming thoroughly amused by her own antics. Neji sighed and stopped, waiting for her to cease in her immaturity. Tenten, sensing his discomfiture, swung around to face him and held out a hand.

He stood there, at the precipice, for a long while, studying the beaming visage of his teammate. She stood there, waiting for him as patiently as she always did, hand ever extended and crystal teardrops shattering over her skin like a watery halo.

The tiniest smile stole over Neji's lips and he abandoned his umbrella in favor of taking her hand.

Feedback is welcome.


	17. Absolution

Chapter 17: _Absolution_

Death is not at all what Tenten imagined what it would be. Certainly, she expected to feel lighter, not still bone-weary. Idly, she wonders if she will be forever doomed to wander the land as an exhausted spirit. And where was the light at the end of the tunnel? All she seems to be able to see is blackness. Distantly, she hears a body hit the ground, and the muffled sound echoes strangely. Falling. That seems like a good idea. Tenten is so very tired. She pitches forward for a brief eternity...

...and lands in Neji's arms.

Her eyes snap open in shock and the ensuing flood of light and color causes them to water painfully. She can hardly see through the watery veil but the way he supports her is heartbreakingly unmistakeable and infinitely relieving. The weight of the world simply falls away from her and she returns the impromptu hug with all her being. He is warm and solid, not at all like a dead man should be.

"You should not have come, Tenten," comes the quiet murmur of Kimimaro's voice. Tenten jolts back and her vision clears to be greeted by the sight of spider silk hair. The thoughts are slow to come together, but when they finally click into place, her hand flies up to her throat, only to find the skin there unmarred.

"You didn't kill me," she realizes. A wry smile – so distinctly Neji – crosses Kimimaro's lips and he spares a glance over his shoulder, at the three prone bodies behind him, each staining the earth steadily crimson.

"And you returned the favor," he says in way of response. She frowns at her fist, still half-pressed against his sternum and jerks it away, as if burned. That's right. For a moment there, she had given into madness and had almost stricken down the one she meant to save. If she had just twisted her arm thirty degrees more, taken a half step extra...

The dark hissing claws at the edges of her sanity and she cringes. Neji – for only Neji can see through her so easily – notices immediately, and his searching gaze finds the cursed seal through the tattered remains of her clothes. His touch ghosts over it, his fingertips soothing and cool against her fevered skin.

"What did you do to yourself?" he whispers softly. She feels the reverberations in his voice resonate with every fiber of her being and she nearly collapses from the confused jumble that threatens to overwhelm her mind. She clings to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck to seek solace from the alien feelings which have become her own. She wonders if Neji is the more changed here or if it is, in truth, her.

"You should not have come, Tenten," he repeats.

She is courteous enough to let him finish before she smashes her fist across his face. It's hard enough to sprawl him out in the sand, but she doesn't feel the jarring feedback, doesn't hear the grunt of impact, doesn't see his surprised visage. All there is to her is the bubbling in her veins, the copper in her mouth and the fire that suffuses her body. Where is the light, then? Why can she see only smoke, black smoke? _Roaring, screaming, smokeandfire_ she's falling and falling and _there is no end_.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

The snapping inconsistency of brittle bones rouses Tenten. No, not bones. A campfire. She can feel the dry heat on her skin and her mouth feels like cotton. What happened? Is she dreaming? Or is she dead? Is Neji...? She tries to stand, but the blanket ensnarls her legs and she spills onto the ground heavily.

"Easy," a voice soothes and she knows she must be dreaming, for above her are three moons, one there, two there. She rises to them like the sluggish tide, but the waters are heavy and press relentlessly down on her. Neji's hand clasps hers and pulls her from her reverie. Those hands are so familiar, deceptively smooth and honed to be deadlier than any blade.

"Y-Your body," she stammers, the question implied in her expression. Tenten is still uncertain. Which is reality, the one she sees now or the one she will wake up to? And then she finds her reflection in the silver pools of Neji's sight, half-shadowed by the raven patterns of feathers. Is that what she looks like? She runs a hand over her own face, watching her mirror mimic her gesture.

"That seal is draining you dry. I had to revert to this body to stop the spread with my own energy. You won't be able to move properly for a while," Neji's velvet baritone explains. There is something unsaid in his voice, in his manner. Tenten flexes her fingers experimentally, and they feel foreign to her. She becomes aware of a strange sort of coldness courses through her, though it is comforting in the same way Neji's presence is.

"You aren't a traitor, then?" she dares to hope. Neji's regard shutters in a silent sort of sigh.

"I am here in the better interest of Konoha," he admits at length. Tenten can't help but laugh. It is ridiculous, really. That he has such difficulty confessing that he has not betrayed them. That they are here. That she is cursed. That he has saved her life again. That she is relieved. He frowns, clearly not finding the same sources of humor that her exhausted mind has.

"Let's go home then," she says, a weight finally lifting from her heart. She can breathe easy, now. To hell with her accursed iron wings, she feels lighter than she ever has before. The niggling worry of their reception is swept away by optimism. Lee and the Lady Hokage would understand, once she brings Neji back. It all seems simple, now that everything is about to be set right. But Neji shakes his head and the tension returns to her chest, constricting her once more.

"I cannot yet," Neji elucidates, "There is still something that I must do."

"What is it?" she asks. But the better question is the one she follows up with, the one that inquires, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Both understand that she is really asking why he did not tell her.

He opens his mouth to speak again, but only an agonized cry issues forth. His body is already convulsing, throwing him to the floor with the wild spasms of some insurmountable physical torment. Panic seizes Tenten's core thoughts as she watches her teammate's spine jerk and distort like a writhing serpent. What had happened? Poison? No. He is unwounded, save for the rough abrasions the sand now rips in his skin. Sickness? No. There is no disease in the world with such a rapid onset. Already, he is beginning to foam at the mouth.

His seal! Someone has activated his cursed seal. But a Main Family member, all the way out here? And in association with Orochimaru? Tenten scans the area wildly, cursing her impotent eyes once more. Neji goes limp behind her, but his breathing remains irregular and his limbs, shaking.

"S-Seal," he gasps out, "Tenten, i–"

Another scream swallows up his words and he claws his fingers into the earth, scrabbling for relief that will not find him. This fit is mercifully shorter than the first, though it leaves him rigid on the ground, cracking hard dust between his clenched teeth. A chuckle chills the air, though its origin lies with neither of them. Tenten snatches up the discarded hilt of her rapier, but her grip feels just as useless as the ruined blade. It is all she can do to remain defiant and on her feet.

"Ah, so it does work," an accompanying voice of the same pitch drawls. It is an unpleasant one – like oiled silk– prickling Tenten's flesh and eliciting a sensation of decided uncleanness. She has only a moment to evaluate her options before a flaring pain over a full half of her body crushes her to her knees and removes all of them. Through her unrelenting haze of burning, she hears the voice continue, "And my newest toy brought a friend."

The owner of the disembodied words steps into view, a pale figure framed by slick black hair, whose face is contorted in a mocking sneer of a smile. There is no mistaking that loathsome, serpentine visage, not for a citizen of Konoha.

"Orochimaru," Tenten snarls, every fiber of her being twisting that name into a profanity. His leering lips pull back further and she is suddenly ablaze in sickening fire, which immolates the silhouettes of her wretched markings. Her vision spins and spots dance before her unseeing eyes as an oncoming wall of rumbling white light erases her world.

Feedback is welcome.


	18. Angel

Chapter 18: _Angel_

Drowning. Tenten is drowning in a sea of molasses. She screams but hears only the vague buzz of static. No. There is another sound. Like a tendril, unfurling down into the depths. She reaches for it but it eludes her turbid grasp, retreating back into the amaranth lights dancing at the surface. Tenten drags herself after it, clawing herself free of the congealing sludge until she bursts into cognizance with a gasp.

Reality is surreal enough to make her question its truth. Twin obelisks of translucent rose quartz spiral elegantly around each other, forming a tapered double helix several hundred feet tall. They are slender, only just large enough to contain a dark, human-sized blur in each base. She struggles to her feet, stumbling forward far enough to peer past the crystalline glow.

Pale eyes stare back, flat and dead, and blood thrums in her ears as the floor seems to fall away. But no, despite the similarities in the jaw and brow, it is not Neji. He is taller, weathered and older. She knows with a chilling kind of certainty that it is the body of Neji's father and knows what must be trapped – who must be trapped – within the other side.

She scrambles to circumvent the two towers. Is the crystal permeable? Can Neji breathe? Is he still alive? As she rounds the structure, she sees Neji's gaze slide towards her in panic, but it is not for himself. A massive coil of leathery rope slams down over her shoulder and constricts her torso before looping around her legs and wrenching her facedown to the ground.

"And just what did you think you were going to do, little girl?" Orochimaru asks, dragging his words like greased chalk over a too-smooth board. Tenten strains against her living chains, but the bonds tighten with a reptilian hiss until she is left gasping for air.

"Your friend isn't going to die. He is the resonator, the amplifier, that will cripple Konoha's last bloodline limit and bring it to its knees," he smirks, raising a hand. The monument hums to life in response, saturating the air with overflowing light until it reeks of ozone. She sees Neji cry out in muted torment, his cursed seal scorching an angry black welt into his alabaster skin.

"You did this," Tenten snarls, the curtains of confusion falling away as all becomes clear, "You coerced Neji here. That's why he used Kimimaro's body. He knew you were controlling the seal."

"Ah? So what?" Orochimaru drawls, unimpressed. His eyes distort with crazed triumph as he goads, "It worked, didn't it? The fool came alone, abandoned his village and forsook his team to reclaim his honor and now _I win_."

"He didn't come alone!" Tenten screams out over the shrieking winds that whip her bangs against her face, "_I'm still here!_"

One last time. One last time she taps into the power of the seal and it surges through her veins, rips through her nerves. Metal spires erupt upwards from her spine, shredding the python holding her fast, and spider slickened fingers into the earth, lifting her to her feet.

"You're making a big mistake, little girl," Orochimaru leers, his tongue rolling out, "You're a thousand years too early to challenge me."

But Tenten is already beyond comprehension, already launching herself at him, her bladed wings slashing through earth and air with equal savagery and equal ease. Orochimaru dances to the side and smashes his shin into her face. She hears a crack, but powers through, her next cut blindly taking his left arm. It is a good scent, rich with iron and copper and she thirsts for more.

Her vision only partially clears as she pursues the blur of white before her. It takes her several delayed moments to realize her left eye has been damaged beyond immediate use, but she can track him through smell alone. Foul. Oily. Rancid. His trail is there and she hunts him down.

A palm strike to her right – hadn't she torn off his arm? – and she feels her eardrum rupture. She catches his hand and tears it free again. Dizziness pounds through her inflamed brain, so she splays out her articulated wings to act as helping legs. She knows which way down is. It's the direction in which her hemorrhaging ocular retches fluid.

The usable half of her vision sees him spring back as his arm regenerates. Hatred boils in her and she rushes forth like a sea of swords, one in each hand and three dozen more on her back. She will rend him to gobbets and stamp them into the earth, burn the earth, salt the earth. Bits of him fly every which way, but he grows like a plague so she keeps cutting. Cut away the disease, tear him to nothing.

She catches him as he retreats, impaling his thigh and jamming the vengeful point of her weapon into the floor. Instantly, another two find their marks, crucifying him in the mud made from his own fluids. She lays him open with one slice and his torso bursts open like an overripe melon, spilling crimson life for her to drink in. One eye goes for revenge, the other for good measure, shoulder, throat, groin, hand.

The smirk remains, and she is about to take it when he becomes one with the muck and melts away.

An impact.

Tenten does not understand. Hadn't she won already? Why is her strength draining away? The berserk rage in her core settles at an alarming rate, replaced by a too-cold feeling of inevitable doom.

Comprehension pierces the fog of her mind like the steel feather through her heart and she falls to her knees.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Tenten knows the figures. She's seen them demonstrated in living color often enough, sprays of crimson on a black canvas. Her breaths, labored and bloody, will number fewer than her fingers. They tremble, her hands, as they try to close over the iron that transfixes her.

Her efforts are stymied as Orochimaru's foot grinds her face into the dirt. She grits her teeth against the humiliation, but they chatter from cold and weakness.

Cold. She has never felt so...

Cold. Tenten feels the thrum of Neji's life force within her on her tenth breath, and it is perhaps the only thing keeping her anchored to her shivering body. Faintly, she can hear the Orochimaru's distasteful gloating from somewhere far away. She feels something flaring at her fingertips.

The seal has not abandoned her. Or, rather, relinquished its hold on her. It merely cannot reach her, held off by Neji's frosty prudence and the icy shaft. Her heart is... safe.

No.

She did not come here, fight here, _drag herself here_, for her own safety.

The roiling emotions spark and a burning aura of power rolls off of her skin, first in wisps and then in crashing cataracts. Orochimaru steps away hastily, but he is no longer important. Tenten understands.

With renewed resolve, her fingers clench around the weapon and revels in the inspiration that filters through the chill mist.

Passion replaces hatred.

Faith replaces bloodlust.

Hope replaces desperation.

A blooming aura of white light permeates her being and the feather comes free of her pulsing heart, molding itself in her hands into a winged spear.

Tenten shoots from the heart.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

Orochimaru looks surprised.

He has every right to be. His left arm has been disintegrated from the elbow down, where he tried to guard himself. His right lies on the ground, separated from his body by the hole in his chest that has simply erased half his torso. The crystal pillars behind him are in a similar state, each sporting a clean circle of empty air.

He falls, and the structures weep crackling fissures from their new eyes for their creator.

Tenten has barely a moment to smile before the world comes crashing down.

Feedback is welcome.


	19. Aftermath

Chapter 19: _Aftermath_

This time it is Tenten who catches Neji as he falls, pink snowflakes still in his hair. His gaze is unfocused and his frame is spent; he is clinging to consciousness by the very tips of his fingers. She is hardly better off, sinking to the rumbling floor under his weight. It is all she can do to hold onto him.

Shards of the towers hurtle down around them and Tenten feels like an ant in a monsoon. The rose raindrops shatter on contact with the earth and sprinkle them with a mist of crystal, like fine razors. She shields Neji the best she can, but she knows the gesture will only delay the inevitable. The sky – a colossal dome of heavy granite – has not fallen yet, but sunlight is already showing through the gray.

The ground heaves as a heavy cloud breaks free of the heavens and stabs into the terrain. There is a truer sky up there, a bluer sky, but it is far beyond Tenten's tired reach.

"Looks like this is the end," she says softly, managing a smile. It was the least she could do, to offer what little comfort she had left.

"No," Neji responds, and the lone word seems to wind him, "Bird."

Tenten almost laughs at the irony of it all. Of course a genius' last words would have to be metaphorical and poetic. Or did he mean to fly them away? But no, she doesn't have the energy for that. Barely has the energy to look up at the descending stone with their names on it. There's no flashback montage of her life, but at least it will be over quic–

"Arriving!"

Her would-be gravestone shatters, showering her with dust and pebbles. She coughs and wheezes, blinking away muddy tears. The snakes look equally unhappy, having just had their heads rammed through solid rock, but she has never been happier to see them.

Several of them loop around her and lift her – Neji and all – into the air, Higher and higher, above the rubble and above the false sky and into the waiting hands of Anko Mitarashi.

"Hang on, kiddos!" the woman exults, "And keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times!"

The scaly coils deposit the two on soft feathers. Tenten isn't sure which question to ask first, but Anko answers before she can decide.

"Ran into your friend along the way," she beams, "Then we ran into some other friends. You sure did a number on all of us, but we decided to get you back, no pun intended. Though, can't speak for the others, but I am going to get you back for that one."

Another ink bird soars into view and Tenten spies a familiar flash of teeth. Perhaps it's giddiness from one too many near brushes with death, but she nearly bursts into giggles at the identical slings the two other riders sport.

"You owe me one!" is the growling response from Kiba, "You know how hard it is to track someone over an ocean?"

Tenten falls back and relishes the feel of sunlight on her skin. Finally, homeward bound.

【[_|[_**_§_**_]|_]】

"Spying on your superiors, disobeying orders, abandoning the village and attacking fellow ninjas!" the Lady Hokage booms, banging a fist on her desk with each charge, "You have a lot of nerve showing up back here!"

Tenten does not flinch. No mission has ever filled her with fire like the one that blazes in her soul now. She remembers the looks the guards gave her when she entered the village, though, and feels a pang of guilt. There was still much to atone for, but that will come in time.

"With all due respect, Lady Hokage," Neji begins, "I will take responsibi–"

"Like hell you will!" the windows rattle, "You've got your own list of crimes long enough to swing from!"

There is a long pause before the Lady Hokage steps around her voluminous desk. She towers over the two for a moment, glaring daggers at them before drawing them into a sudden embrace.

"Welcome home," she sighs.

Tenten glances at Neji and – is that a smile? – he returns the look.

Yes. They were home.

Feedback is welcome.


End file.
